Aperio
by MissLindaLee
Summary: Aperio to uncover, lay bare, reveal, make clear. Seventh story in the Angelica Corusca series.
1. Chapter 1

- - - -  
  
Linda grinned as the cold night air hit her face, refreshing her spirit as she banked left on the skateboard. She shifted her balance before straightening up and heading south. She smiled as she slowed her speed to a comfortable level and sighed with content. She was glad Clark taught her to skateboard. It gave her a new sense of freedom that even her parents didn't mind - as long as she wore her helmet and knee and elbow pads. She was so thrilled to be doing something so fun that she didn't even bother questioning why she had to wear the gear when she could survive a fall perfectly without it.  
  
"And just what to do you think you're doing?"  
  
Linda looked to her right and saw Superman floating beside her, looking stern with his arms folded. She smiled. "Hi, Clark. I'm skateboarding."  
  
"At twenty-thousand feet?" Superman asked.  
  
Linda glanced down at the world below her and winced. She hadn't realize she drifted so high. "Sorry," she replied. "I guess I kinda lost track of my altitude." Superman nodded and pointed down. Together, the two descended and landed in one piece on the gravel drive of the Kent Farm. Linda skittered to a halt, took her feet from the straps she added a while back solely for sky boarding purposes, and kicked the skateboard up into her hands as her cousin quickly spun into his civilian clothes. Together, the two headed up the walk and into the house.  
  
"Mom, I'm home," Linda said. Martha looked over from the sink and the dinner dishes they were cleaning, and smiled.  
  
"Hi, sweetie," Martha replied. She noticed her son behind the young girl. "Clark, this is a pleasant surprise."  
  
"Hi, Mom," Clark said as he walked over and kissed her forehead. "How are you?"  
  
"Not bad," Martha replied. "You?"  
  
"Nothing new to report," Clark answered. "Where's Dad?"  
  
As if on cue, Jonathan came down the stairs. He saw his kids and smiled. "Hey, you two. How was the sky boarding, Linda?"  
  
"Not bad," Linda replied.  
  
"I caught her at twenty-thousand feet," Clark said.  
  
"Linda," Jonathan replied sternly, looking at his daughter.  
  
[Tattletale,] Linda frowned as she looked up at her cousin.  
  
[Hey, I wasn't the one who went above her designated altitude,] Clark retorted.  
  
[It was an accident!]  
  
"Okay, you two, stop arguing," Jonathan replied as he watched his children. He knew when they just stood and stared at each other that they were talking telepathically, and by their expressions they were not having a civil discussion. He sighed. "Linda, I thought we had a discussion about that. No going above ten-thousand feet."  
  
"It was an accident!" Linda protested as she took off her helmet. "It's like . . . I feel so free up there. It's not like I can fly at the moment." Even though she was telekinetic and could move objects and other people with ease, levitating herself proved to be nearly impossible because she couldn't see herself the way she saw the rest of the world. That's why she used the skateboard, and that's why she added the foot straps.  
  
"I know," Jonathan replied, "and I'm not saying you can't do it, but you have to exercise a little caution. And that means sticking with the boundaries we set for you, especially when it comes to your altitude."  
  
"We could always install an altimeter," Clark said, grinning. Linda smacked his arm. "Hey!"  
  
"Okay, okay," Jonathan replied. "Linda, no more boarding for the rest of the week, okay?" Linda groaned softly, but she sighed and nodded. "And Clark, what are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh, I just got back from Gotham," Clark replied. His parents gave him strange expressions. "Don't worry, it was personal, nothing dealing with business."  
  
"And how's Bruce doing?" Martha asked.  
  
"Same old Bruce," Clark replied. "They're still coming tomorrow, just as planned."  
  
"And he won't tell you why he's coming?" Jonathan asked.   
  
Clark shrugged. "He's very secretive about his intentions."  
  
Jonathan snorted. "Nothing new there." He eyed Clark. "You don't think he's here for something serious, do you, son?"  
  
Clark shook his head. "He would tell me if he was. We have an agreement on that." He looked down at his cousin. "And all three of them are looking forward to meeting you."  
  
Linda shrugged. "I'm going to go get cleaned up and ready for bed." She headed up the stairs.  
  
"Is she still upset about them staying here?" Clark asked.   
  
"Well, it is the first time guests are going to be staying over with Linda here," Martha replied. "She's bound to be apprehensive about that."  
  
"And Bruce really isn't a people person," Jonathan added.  
  
"I can call him back and say plan's changed," Clark said.  
  
"No," Martha replied. "We'll see how it goes when they get here - give it some time. She and Dick might get along - they do have a few things common." She walked over to her son and kissed his cheek. "I'm going to get things ready." She left her men in the kitchen and went into the hallway.   
  
Clark glanced at his father and saw a troubled look on his face. "What is it, Dad?"  
  
"I trust Bruce," he said, "but something tells me he's not coming here to enjoy a home cooked meal."  
  
"Dad, you know we have an agreement on investigating outside our cities," Clark replied.  
  
"I know, son, but I still can't help wondering what he has up his sleeves," Jonathan said. "Considering the seriousness of your jobs sometimes, you can't blame me."  
  
"No, I guess not," Clark replied. He looked at the wall clock. "Well, I guess I better get back to Metropolis. I'll be here tomorrow to meet Bruce at the airport." He turned to the hallway. "Goodnight, Mom."  
  
"Goodnight, Clark!"  
  
Clark glanced up the stairs. "Goodnight, Short Stack!" he shouted.  
  
"Don't call me Short Stack!" Linda shouted back. "And goodnight!"  
  
Clark grinned and turned back to his father. He looked amused, an eyebrow raised. "What?"  
  
"Don't 'what' me, Clark," Jonathan smiled. He pulled his son into a hug. "Goodnight, son."  
  
Clark hugged his father back. "Night, Dad."  
  
Jonathan reluctantly let go of his son and watched him leave the house. A few moments later he heard a familiar whooshing sound. Smiling, he turned and went to go help his wife.  
  
- - - -  
  
"Go Crows!"  
  
The students cheered as Linda finished her routine by turning around and shaking the tail feathers of her costume. She gave one last wave before scurrying out of the gym behind the cheerleaders. All of them walked to the girl's locker room ,where they started undressing. Linda went to the storage room and put her head and costume in its place before walking back to her locker. The other girls chattered, but Linda didn't join in. It wasn't that she never spoke with any of them - they socialized plenty of times to synchronize their routines, but she was just never invited to join in their personal conversations, which Linda didn't mind at all.  
  
"Hey, Linda."  
  
Linda looked over as Cecilia walked over. The cheerleader hadn't really spoken to Linda since the mascot tryouts, so needless to say Linda was a little surprised. "Uh, hi," she replied slowly.  
  
"Look," Cecilia replied as Linda grabbed her towel from her locker, "I know we haven't talked to each other much, but I wanted to let you know that you are a really great mascot."  
  
"Really?" Linda asked.  
  
Cecilia nodded. "The crowd loves you. You deserved the spot." She smiled. "Especially after today. Those moves you did . . . heh, if you can give those moves on Saturday, then I think we'll be able to beat Grandville in school spirit as well as on the scoreboard."  
  
"Well, I can't take all the credit," Linda replied. "You guys are great cheerleaders. You lead the team. I just act like a goofball."  
  
Cecilia chuckled. "Well, it looks like you need to hit the showers, so maybe we can talk later?"  
  
"Sure," Linda replied.  
  
"Okay, then. See you later." Cecilia left, and Linda smiled as she grabbed her shower things. She didn't need to take a shower, but she had a pretense to uphold. And she loved taking showers period, so she didn't mind too much. The young girl grinned as she headed for the showers in the back.  
  
- - - -  
  
"Here, let me get that," Jonathan said, reaching for a suitcase.  
  
"Sir, with all due respect," the elder gentleman in the butler's uniform said, "I can get those. It's my job."  
  
"Alfred, you're our guest," Jonathan replied. He reached for the suitcase, but Alfred gently smacked his hand away.  
  
"And I said it's my job, sir," Alfred said, gently chiding the farmer. He picked up the suitcase and headed towards the farmhouse. Clark was standing next to a suited man near the limo parked in the drive, and he was trying not to laugh at his father. The suited man, his brown hair slicked back, looked somewhat amused by what happened, but for the most part his expression was aloof, his hazel eyes unchanging.  
  
"Sorry about that, Mr. Kent," he said, his voice calm and collected.  
  
"Oh, don't worry about it, Bruce," Jonathan replied. "I should know better by now than to try doing something for Alfred." He glanced at the limo. "Is, uh, is Dick coming out, or is he going to stay inside the limo the entire time?"  
  
"He was quiet the entire flight," Bruce said. "Can't blame him, though, considering."  
  
Jonathan nodded. Dick had lost his parents a little over four months ago, so he knew the young boy was still grieving. The farmer sighed; he couldn't imagine what it was like to see one's own parents murdered in front of them. "Well, I'm going into the house and make sure Alfred hasn't kicked Martha out of the kitchen. Holler if you need anything." He headed into the house, leaving Clark and Bruce alone.  
  
"So, where's your cousin again?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Pep rally," Clark answered. "She's the mascot."  
  
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "How did she land that gig?"  
  
Clark shrugged. "Honestly, I still don't know, but it keeps her busy, and she's made some friends. That's what she needs right now."  
  
Bruce nodded. "And how are you adjusting to this?"  
  
Clark shrugged. He and Bruce hadn't talked much since Linda's arrival, because Bruce was still adjusting to having his own responsibilities with Dick, while Clark was dealing with his own adjustments. It wasn't until Bruce contacted Clark two weeks ago about coming to Smallville on business that Clark told him about Linda. Bruce was surprised, but he accepted the news fairly well, promising to keep her secret as well as Clark's.  
  
"It's different," Clark replied. "I mean, part of me still can't believe she's real."  
  
"Like you're still walking around in a daze?" Bruce asked. Clark nodded. "I hear you, Clark. I find myself dealing with Dick in the same manner. Any hints you can offer?"  
  
"Not really," Clark replied. "Linda's still adjusting to life on Earth - everything is new to her." He took a deep breath. "Just pray for patience every day."  
  
Bruce snorted, then he paused. "Okay, I think enough time's passed." He walked over to the limo and opened the back passenger door. "Come on, Dick." He looked into the limo at the dark-haired teenager inside. He was dressed in jeans, a dark shirt, and dark tennis shoes. He looked up at Bruce with a reserved expression, his blue eyes dulled with emotional fatigue and sadness. Bruce knew that look well - he had been in Dick's shoes when he was young. He felt sorry for his young ward, but he didn't know what to say, what to do . . . he sighed. "You can't stay in the limo for the entire trip." Dick sighed softly as he slowly got out of the limo, but he didn't look up.  
  
Clark eyed the teen sympathetically. He was tempted to say something, but he didn't know what he could say. How do you talk to a kid who saw his own parents murdered? What do you say that doesn't sound stupid? Clark didn't know the answers, so he just smiled at the young teen. "Hi, Dick," he said. "I'm Clark. I'm Bruce's friend."  
  
"H'lo," Dick replied.  
  
Bruce glanced at Clark, but Clark just shrugged. A look of near-panic crossed the millionaire's face, but he kept his cool as he walked over. "Dick, you want to go inside? I'm sure Mrs. Kent will be happy to make you something if you're hungry."  
  
"I'm fine," Dick replied as he left Bruce's side and headed up the walk alone.   
  
Bruce sighed and looked at Clark. "He's been like that since he moved in."  
  
"Bruce, give him some time," Clark said. "He's still grieving." He eyed his friend knowingly. "You, of all people, know what he's going through. You know what to expect."  
  
"Yeah," Bruce replied harshly, "and that's the last thing I want for Dick, Kent." Bruce turned on his heels and headed up the walk after his ward, leaving Clark alone, eyebrows raised. He waited a few moments before following his friend.  
  
- - - -  
  
Linda walked down the steps and into the parking lot of the high school, her backpack slung over her shoulders. She was alone, everyone else had already left for the day, and she was ready to go home. She was still apprehensive about the new guests, but she really wanted to tell her parents about what happened at the pep rally. And she also loved spending time with her cousin.  
  
The young girl was about ready to switch to hyper speed when a group of three people approached her. They were dressed in jeans, shirts, and shoes, with very dark green satin jackets with black trim over their clothes. There were patches on the left side of the female symbol with lightning bolts coming out where the hands would be, but the most prominent thing about the people was the black ski masks they wore over their faces. Linda was confused and opened her mouth to speak, but she suddenly felt very sick to her stomach. Her knees started shaking, and it took everything she had to stay on her feet, but she felt all her strength leaving her, like a battery being drained of its power. Pain started resonating through her body as her head started spinning.  
  
Linda was confused as she doubled over, feeling like he was about to throw up. What was happening to her? She looked up and saw one of the trio step over and raise a fist. Linda glanced over and saw a glowing green rock the size of a grapefruit, with a chain attached to it, and she knew immediately what it was. Before she could react the person slammed the rock down, connecting with the side of her hair. Pain shot through Linda's head as she fell to the ground. She reached up and touched her head, and it felt warm and wet. She pulled back her hand and saw blood on her fingers. She wanted to shout out or cry, but she felt like she was about to pass out as she curled on her side, trying to will the pain away. She groaned as the person who trio walked over and knelt beside her, putting the rock around her neck. The other two joined the apparent leader, and they grabbed Linda under her arms and dragged her away from the school.  
  
(End of Chapter 1) 


	2. Chapter 2

- - - -  
  
Linda was barely conscious as the vehicle drove down the road. She was in the back, and the only thing she knew about what was going on was that she was in the back of a car . . . she couldn't even tell what kind of car. Her head was throbbing, and the only thing worse was the awful pain radiating through her body. Tears formed in her eyes. She was scared - she wanted to go home, guests or no guests. She just wanted to be with her family, and she tried focusing her thoughts on Clark, but she couldn't concentrate on anything but the pain.  
  
She didn't know how long they drove, but after what seemed like an eternity the car stopped. Linda couldn't even raise her head as the back door opened, and the masked trio pulled her out of the car. The young girl recognized where they were, the Loeb Bridge over Elbow River, and she tried fighting, but she had no strength left. She couldn't even muster a whimper as the trio lifted her up and dumped her over the rail. They watched her fall into the river with a sickening splash and sink below the surface. Satisfied, they turned and hopped back into the car and drove off.  
  
Linda held her breath as she tried to swim, but she didn't have the strength or experience. Her arms felt like jelly, and she couldn't even reach up to remove the rock from her neck. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness, and the last thing she remembered before passing out was seeing her cousin's face.  
  
- - - -  
  
Dick sat alone on the back porch swing, rocking silently. The adults were inside, and Dick didn't really care what they were doing; he didn't want to have anything to do with them. It wasn't like he hated being there . . . he just wanted his parents, but they were gone, and they were never going to come back. And it was his fault. He should have said something, done something . . . and he didn't, because he was a coward. He sighed as he leaned back, trying not to let the tears in his eyes spill down his cheeks.  
  
A little bark drew him back into reality, and he looked down. Krypto sat at his feet, looking up at him with big brown eyes. Streaky said beside the puppy, and she meowed once before pawing at Dick's leg. Dick raised an eyebrow, and he tried to ignore the animals, but Streaky jumped up into his lap and plopped down, purring. Dick tried to shoo her off, but then Krypto stood on his hind legs and tried to jump up, but he was too short. He whined, and after a few moments Dick sighed and leaned over. He picked up the puppy, and he squirmed in Dick's arms, trying to lick his face. Dick tried to be annoyed, but he pulled the puppy close and let him lick his face. For the first time since his parents died the young man smiled a bit as he put Krypto on his lap and started scratching both him and Streaky behind their ears.  
  
Inside, the five adults sat around the table, drinking coffee, talking about different things. Alfred kept trying to make sure everyone's mug was filled, but Martha finally put her foot down and ordered Alfred to sit with them at the table. Alfred started to protest, but Martha quickly persuaded him with letting him help her make dinner in exchange for sitting with them. The offer was too tempting to refuse, and Alfred took his place at the table.  
  
"So, how are things in Gotham?" Jonathan asked Bruce. "Anything interesting happening?"  
  
"Thankfully, things have quieted down a bit," Bruce replied. "Maybe the criminals are starting to realize the dangers of operating in Gotham." He glanced at Clark. "Maybe I could give you a few pointers, Kent."  
  
"No thanks, Bruce," Clark said. "We've already talked about that." He didn't like Bruce's methods of dealing with criminals any more than Bruce liked his methods, but they knew their cities were polar opposites, each requiring different methods. They didn't like it, but they respected it - and they respected each other. He looked at his wristwatch. "Where is Linda? The pep rally should be over by now."  
  
"Maybe she's taking her time," Martha replied.  
  
Clark shrugged. "I know, but -"  
  
"Clark, don't defend her," Bruce interrupted. "She doesn't like us; you can say that. We're all grown ups here."  
  
Clark sighed. "Bruce, it's not that she doesn't like you - she's just wary of strangers."  
  
"That's a good thing," Alfred replied. He glanced at Bruce. "You never know what kind of people are out there."  
  
"Thank you so much, Alfred," Bruce said wryly.  
  
"My pleasure, sir," Alfred replied.  
  
Clark smiled. "So, Alfred, I was wo -"  
  
[Clark, help me!]  
  
Clark jerked his head to the right when he heard the scream resonating in his head. He immediately recognized Linda's voice, but he had never heard that kind of pure terror in her voice - ever. He got to his feet just as he heard a crash to his right. He looked over and saw his mother had dropped her mug. It smashed to the floor in pieces.  
  
"Linda?" Martha said as she and Jonathan got to their feet, fear written on their faces.  
  
"You heard that?" Clark asked. The Kents nodded, looking just as surprised as Clark felt, but there wasn't any time to think about that.  
  
"Heard what?" Bruce asked, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
"It's Linda," Clark replied. "She's in trouble." Clark blurred out through the kitchen door in a split second. Bruce looked over at the Kents, and saw the worried expressions on their faces. He glanced at Alfred, and he knew they were both thinking the same thing: what was going on?  
  
- - - -  
  
Superman soared through the sky over Smallville, using his telescopic vision to look for his cousin. He had tried using his telepathy to contact her, but he couldn't get a clear signal; he saw fear and pain and . . . and murky water? The hero was a little confused, but then it suddenly clicked in his mind. He knew where his cousin was, and he banked right, heading south. When he was over the Elbow River he dove in.  
  
He had no problem seeing in the muddy water as he looked around, but he started feeling sick and weak. He immediately recognized the symptoms, and he looked around for the source. He glanced down, and saw Linda laying on the river bottom, about twenty feet below him. Her eyes were closed, and he couldn't hear her heart beating, but his focus was on the large glowing kryptonite rock hanging from a chain around her neck.  
  
Superman felt pain resonating through his body, but he pushed through it as he swam to his cousin. He tried removing the chain from her neck, but his strength was beginning to leave him. He quickly grabbed a part of the chain with both his hands and pulled as hard as he could. The link quickly snapped, and the hero tossed the rock and chain to one side. He took Linda in his arms and quickly swam to the surface. He broke through the surface of the water, gasping for air. Carefully holding Linda close to him he headed for the shore.  
  
The hero carefully lay his cousin on the ground and knelt beside her. He put his ear next to Linda's nose and listened. She wasn't breathing. He listened for her heartbeat, and there was none. Superman didn't waste any time and began performing CPR. "Come on, Linda," he whispered as he compressed her sternum. "Don't do this to me, sweetie." Linda didn't respond. "Fight, Linda, fight."   
  
Suddenly, Linda started coughing furiously, spitting up water. Superman gently supported her as he turned her on her side, gently rubbing her back. That's when he saw the bloody gash on the side of her head; it wasn't bleeding anymore, but the blood was still wet to the touch. After Linda finished coughing, she collapsed into her cousin's arms, her breathing shallow and slow.  
  
Seeing she was still unconscious, Superman did a quick visual sweep and didn't see any fragments of kryptonite in the wound, but he was having a hard time focusing his regular vision. Confused, he glanced up and saw the sun was behind thick cloud. He sighed, knowing it was going to be a while before he'd be able to do another check, but that wasn't his concern at the moment.  
  
Superman carefully lifted Linda, cradling her in his arms, every muscle in his body straining to support her. He took a few deep breaths before he gently floated into the sky, heading north towards the farm.  
  
- - - -  
  
Dick was sitting on the porch, slowly rocking with the pets still in his lap, when he heard a slight whooshing sound. The pets jumped from his lap as the teen got to his feet and walked to the rail, looking up. He saw a faint red speck in the sky, heading towards him at a fast rate. Dick furrowed his eyebrows as the speck got larger until he recognized it as Superman, with a young unconscious girl in his arms. He watched, confused, as the hero landed in a stumbling run and fell to his knees. Dick could see the hero straining to hold the girl (Dick assumed she was Linda) above the ground, and he hurried over.  
  
"What can I do to help?" Dick asked, leaning over.  
  
Superman breathed hard as he knelt on the ground. He supported Linda for a second with one arm and used the other to wave Dick away. It wasn't a harsh 'leave me alone, kid;' it was more of a 'no, it's okay, you go on, just give me a second.'  
  
Dick stopped and watched, wanting to help, but knowing better than to upset the strongest man in the world. He completely missed the meaning in the hero's wave and hung his head, feeling like a failure as Superman took a deep breath and strained with every muscle in his legs to get to his feet. He swayed slightly for a moment before heading up the stairs with his precious cargo.  
  
Inside the kitchen Jonathan paced the length of the floor while Martha cleaned up the counters. Bruce was at the kitchen table, doing a remote systems check on the Batjet. Alfred stood against the wall nearby, watching calmly, ready to jump in at any moment. His focus was mainly on Jonathan; the butler's keen eyes knew that the farmer was feeling helpless and out of place in the kitchen, especially since he was the only one in the room who didn't have a task.  
  
Everyone looked over as the kitchen door opened suddenly, and Superman stepped in, carrying Linda in his arms. Martha and Jonathan were horrified to see their daughter, unconscious, her clothes and hair damp, and blood coagulating on the side of her head. Their son's costume and hair were also damp. They didn't notice he was breathing hard and looking sick and weak as they hurried over.  
  
Both parents moved to take the girl, but then their eyes met, and Martha nodded at Jonathan. He took a deep breath and braced Linda, taking her from Clark's arm while Martha went to find a towel. She stopped when she saw that Alfred had already retrieved a towel from the laundry basket and held it out to her. Martha looked at him gratefully, silently thanking him with her eyes before hurrying back over to her daughter.  
  
"What happened?" she asked softly as gently dabbed the wound, trying not to gag on the smell of wet cotton mingled with the familiar stench of stagnant river water and the sickening coppery odor of her daughter's blood.  
  
"I found her in Elbow River," Superman said softly, trying not to gasp or show any sign of pain or weakness. "She had a large kryptonite rock chained around her neck."  
  
"Kryptonite?" Jonathan asked. "How did kryptonite get around her neck?"  
  
Superman shook his head. "I - I - I don't know." He took a ragged breath. "I'm sorry. I tried to get to her as quickly as I could."  
  
Martha put an arm on her son's shoulder. "Clark, it's okay," she said. "You got to her, and you brought her home. You saved her life. You have nothing to apologize for." She took a deep breath. "Why don't you go get into some drier clothes? We'll take care of her."  
  
Superman shook his head. "No. Not until she's taken care of."  
  
"Clark," Jonathan said, his voice firm. "We're going to take Linda upstairs to her room and get her into some drier clothes and tend to that wound. You need to get into dry clothes. Now."  
  
"But -"  
  
"Clark, now." Jonathan looked at his son with that 'don't make me say it again' expression. Clark was torn between his father and his cousin, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Alfred standing behind him.  
  
"Sir," he said, "might I suggest that your father is correct? The situation will seem clearer when you are more comfortable and able to think without the distraction of damp clothing."  
  
Clark sighed. He knew he was outnumbered. "Fine."  
  
"Master Bruce, would you accompany him?" Alfred asked.  
  
"Alfred, I think Clark is big enough to change his own clothes," Bruce replied. All Alfred had to do was raise an eyebrow at the businessman, and he sighed. "Fine. I'll go supervise the boy scout." He got up from his place at the table and headed for the stairs. "Let's go, Kent." Clark glanced at Bruce then looked back at Linda. He sighed and left his parents, following Bruce up the stairs.   
  
Alfred watched the two until they disappeared then turned to the Kents. "Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?" he asked.  
  
"Thankfully, her head isn't bleeding anymore," Jonathan said, "but we need to take care of it and get her out of these wet clothes." He took a deep breath and held his daughter securely in his arms as he headed up the stairs with Martha and Alfred following behind. No one noticed Dick as he stood in the frame of the back door, looking totally lost and scared.   
  
(End of Chapter 2) 


	3. Chapter 3

- - - -  
  
Bruce leaned against the window in the Kents' room, his arms folded as Clark came out of the master bathroom. His costume was draped over the shower rod, dripping into the shower, and he had changed into one of his father's plaid work shirts, a pair of jeans, and a pair of thick socks. Bruce didn't say anything as Clark started pacing the length of the room. The Gothamite made a career of reading people's expressions, and he could see many emotions playing over his friend's face; the two most prominent were worry and guilt, and Bruce knew they were normal, given the situation, but he didn't know what to say, and that frustrated him more than anything at the moment. The two were silent as Clark continued to pace, then there was a knock on the bedroom door. Clark stopped, and both he and Bruce looked over as the door opened. Alfred stood on the other side.  
  
"Sir, you'll be pleased to know that Miss Linda is resting comfortably in her room," he said.  
  
"How is she?" Clark asked.  
  
"She is still unconscious," Alfred replied, "but she is in much drier clothes and her head wound has been tended." He stepped aside. "Your family would be pleased if you joined them." Clark nodded and brushed past the butler, walking down the hall to Linda's room. Alfred looked back at Bruce. The businessman looked sullen. "Master Bruce?" Bruce looked up. "Might I suggest spending some time with Master Dick? He might find this situation a bit overwhelming, given his current condition."  
  
"Um," Bruce mumbled, thinking hard as he rubbed his hand over his face, momentarily giving in to the weariness, "yeah, okay. You wouldn't happen to know where he is right now, would you? No one told me when I took him in that the kid would be so hard to keep track of."  
  
Alfred lowered and tilted his head, giving his master a reproving look. "And when was the last time you tried?" He had the satisfaction of catching Bruce's almost imperceptible wince. "I may be mistaken, but I believe you will find your foster son in the barn." He turned to go, but stopped barely a step away and turned back slightly. "Oh, and Master Bruce, kindly mind your grammar - I know that I have taught you to speak properly, and if I were to find that Master Dick has been led astray by your laziness, I would be most displeased."  
  
With that, Alfred glided from the room and quietly closed the door, suppressing a smile; he didn't have to see to know that his last two words had left the Dark Knight of Gotham pale and speechless.  
  
- - - -  
  
Clark slowly opened the door and poked his head in. The room was dark, the curtains drawn. Jonathan and Martha sat in chairs on both sides of Linda's bed.  
  
Linda lay in bed, still unconscious. Her wet clothes were in her hamper in the corner. The sheets were tucked up to Linda's torso, and Clark could see the top portion of her soft blue flannel pajamas. The blood no longer covered the side of her face, but there was a piece of gauze taped over the wound. The Kents looked over as Clark came in and shut the door. The young man couldn't help but notice how fragile and tired his parents looked, and that scared him more than anything.  
  
Clark tried to distract himself by focusing in on Linda's heartbeat and breathing, but he didn't have the strength. He knew he was still weakened from being exposed to the Kryptonite, and while he wasn't in the same condition as his cousin, he still felt very lightheaded and dizzy. He sighed as he walked over.  
  
"How is she?" he asked softly.  
  
"We don't know," Martha answered, her voice shaking. "We cleaned her head wound and got her into drier clothes and made her as comfortable as possible . . . ." She trailed off as she closed her eyes tightly and put a hand over her mouth.  
  
Jonathan reached over the bed and took his wife's hand in his, squeezing it gently. "She's going to be fine, Martha," he whispered. "She's strong, and she's a fighter."  
  
"I know, Jonathan," Martha replied, trying hard not to cry, "but I keep thinking about Clark and the first time he was exposed, and how long he was . . . ." She started crying softly, and Jonathan left his spot and hurried over to Martha, kneeling beside her and hugging her, whispering to her softly. Clark stood there for a few moments, feeling out of place before he turned to leave.  
  
"Clark, wait," Jonathan said softly. Clark stopped. "We need to talk."  
  
"About what?" Clark asked, keeping his voice low.  
  
"About why you didn't tell us you weren't feeling well," Jonathan replied. Clark stiffened, but he didn't say anything. "Clark, turn around and look at us." Clark slowly turned around. "Why didn't you say anything?"  
  
"Because I was fine," Clark answered. "A little lightheaded, but nothing serious."  
  
"Son, that's not a good reason. You know good and well that anytime you don't feel well, it's a big deal." Jonathan said.  
  
"Dad, Linda was hurt," Clark replied. "You saw how she was. My dizziness was nothing compared to what happened to her, and I didn't want you to worry about me when you should have been taking care of her."  
  
"Oh, so now you're saying you were dizzy? Before, you were just 'lightheaded.' Clark," Jonathan said, "as much as we appreciate the nobility in all of this, you're still a part of this family, and that means you do not keep injuries a secret from us, and you do not lie to us."  
  
Clark sighed. "Dad, I -"  
  
"If you two are going to talk about this," Martha interrupted, trying to keep from raising her voice, "then please leave the room."  
  
A soft moan emanated from the bed, and everyone looked down as Linda started stirring. Everything else was pushed aside as the trio focused on the young girl. They leaned over as Linda slowly opened her eyes.  
  
"Linda," Martha said softly, brushing back damp strands of hair from her daughter's forehead, "we're here. You're safe now, baby." Linda looked up at her family through half-closed and clouded eyes. She looked confused for a moment before she slipped back into unconsciousness.  
  
"Now what?" Clark asked.  
  
"We wait," Jonathan said. "It's about all we can do at this point." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his face, his expression tired.  
  
"Who would do such a thing to her?" Martha asked.  
  
"I don't know," Jonathan answered. He turned to Clark, drained but determined to set things right between himself and his son. "Clark, let's go across the hall and take care of this."   
  
Just then Linda moaned again, and Jonathan turned and rushed back to her side. Seeing that his little cousin was still unconscious, Clark took the opportunity to slip out of the room and disappear down the stairs, smothering the twinge that came from defying his father (and the gratitude for his parents' concern) under a layer of self-righteous bravado.  
  
Barely ten seconds later, Jonathan stepped out of his daughter's room to find the hallway deserted. He swallowed a curse and started toward the stairs, but his wife's voice reached him, calling his name; torn, he finally decided to tend to his girls for the moment, but he angrily vowed that he and his son would be having a very long and uncomfortable discussion later.  
  
(End of Chapter 3) 


	4. Chapter 4

- - - -  
  
Chloe and Lois were sitting close to each other at Lois' desk, pretending to draft copy their story, while they discussed their plans for the weekend, and Jimmy pretended not to be listening to their conversation as he fiddled with his laptop. He knew he hadn't been invited to join them, hadn't really even expected to be, but he was still feeling hurt and left out. He sighed and stared at his screen, silently rereading something he had typed up about two weeks ago. He had intended to send as soon as he was finished, but he knew he would never get that chance.   
  
The young photographer leaned back in his chair, vividly remembering his conversation with Clark a couple days after getting back to Metropolis following Jimmy's last time in Smallville.  
  
- - - -  
  
_"Jimmy, we need to talk," Clark said as he walked up to the teen's desk.  
  
Jimmy didn't have to look up to know that Clark was dead serious. He shrugged, already wrung out from being on the receiving end of his mother's wrath. "Fine."  
  
Clark grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it close. He took a deep breath as he sat down, facing the young photographer. "Jimmy, first of all, please look at me when I'm talking to you." Jimmy slowly looked up, and Clark couldn't remember ever seeing his young friend so defeated. "Jimmy, I know that -"  
  
"Clark," Jimmy interrupted, "with all due respect, a lot of people seem to think they know so much more about me and about what's going on than I do, and all that assumption has brought lately is trouble; so if it's all the same to you, could you just drop the act and be straight with me for once?"  
  
Clark stared at Jimmy, taken aback by the teen's candor. It took him a few moments to collect his thoughts. "Fine." He took a deep breath. "Well, my parents and I had a long talk with Linda a couple days ago, and they've set down a few rules for her - and for you." Jimmy tensed, and Clark took a deep breath, making sure he spoke clearly. "Jimmy, because of what happened recently - on top of all the other stuff that's taken place since you two have known each other - and until further notice . . . Mom and Dad really don't want you two having any contact with each other. That means no phone calls, no emails . . . no seeing each other."  
  
Jimmy set his lips straight. He wasn't in the mood to protest or argue . . . or anything. "Fine. Anything else?"  
  
"No," Clark replied slowly, "that's about it." Jimmy nodded and got up from his chair. He started to leave, but Clark gently grabbed his wrist. "They're serious, Jimmy. They don't want you to see her . . . and neither do I."  
  
Jimmy turned around, frowning slightly, jerking his wrist free from Clark's grip. "I heard you the first time, Clark, and I said I'll leave Linda alone." He left his desk and headed for the elevators, hanging his head slightly so no one would see the tears brimming his eyes._  
  
- - - -  
  
Jimmy blinked once and came back to the present. He glanced at the letter on his screen. The young photographer sighed as he closed the program. It was near quitting time for the weekend, and he started getting ready to leave. He glanced up briefly when Chloe's phone rang before going back to work.  
  
"Hey, Jimmy, be a pal and get that for me, would you?" Chloe asked. "Thanks." She and Lois went back to their plans.  
  
Jimmy narrowed his eyes briefly at the two, and he was tempted to say 'get it yourself,' but he kept his mouth shut and went to answer the phone. He picked it up on the third ring. "Chloe Sullivan's desk."  
  
"Uh, Jimmy," Clark said, "is Chloe still around?"  
  
"She's busy, Clark," Jimmy replied. "Can I take a message?"  
  
"Jimmy, I really need to talk to her."  
  
Jimmy sighed, frustrated. He really wasn't in the mood, especially since his friend was attempting to leave him out of the loop - again. "Clark, I said she's busy, and I'm getting ready to leave. You wanna give her a message, you're going to have to give it to me now."  
  
There was a pause, and Jimmy heard Clark sigh. "Fine. Tell Chloe that someone tried to kill Linda today."  
  
"What?" Jimmy asked, furrowing his eyebrows, his anger replaced with worry. "What happened? Is she okay?"  
  
"She's fine, Jimmy," Clark answered. "Someone jumped her, tied a meteor rock around her neck, and threw her off the Loeb Bridge into the Elbow River. Thankfully, Superman saved her and brought her home."  
  
"Clark, is there anything I can do?" Jimmy asked. His anger returned, but it wasn't directed at Clark - it was directed at the person responsible for hurting Linda.  
  
"Not really, Jimmy," Clark replied. "There's not much of anything anyone can do for her. She's got a small head wound, but she's resting right now." He paused. "Look, uh, I'm not sure what's going to happen, but I'm going to stay in Smallville and figure out who did this to her. Can you, uh, just . . . um, just let the others know what's going on, okay?"  
  
"Yeah, sure," Jimmy said. "No problem."  
  
"Thanks, Jimmy."  
  
"Uh, Clark?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"If you or your family need anything . . . ."  
  
"Thanks, Jimmy."   
  
Jimmy heard a soft click as Clark hung up. The young photographer slowly put the receiver back on the cradle. He stared at the phone for a few moments before turning around, looking at Chloe and Lois. They were still talking, oblivious to the rest of the world, and Jimmy was tempted not to tell them about the phone call, but he wasn't that resentful. Besides, he knew it would be wrong to keep that conversation from them; they were Linda's friends, and they needed to know. He sighed as he walked over. "Guys?"  
  
"What is it, Jimmy?" Lois asked as she studied a brochure about the Metropolis Arboretum.   
  
"That was Clark on the phone," Jimmy said.  
  
"What did he want?" Chloe asked, not looking up from her brochure about a traveling art show that was going to be in Metropolis over the weekend.  
  
"He wanted me to tell you guys he's going to be staying in Smallville for a while," Jimmy answered. "Someone tried to kill Linda." Both Lois and Chloe jerked their heads up.  
  
"What?" Chloe asked as she and Lois got to their feet. "What happened?"  
  
"All that Clark told me is that someone jumped Linda, tied a meteor rock around her neck, and tossed her into the Elbow River. Superman saved her."  
  
"Is she okay?" Lois asked.  
  
Jimmy answered, "She's resting, but Clark says she's going to be fine."  
  
"Any leads?" Chloe asked.  
  
Jimmy shook his head. "Clark's going to stay there and try to figure it out." He paused. "I'm, uh, I'm going to tell the Chief." He turned and left the two women, heading to Perry's office. The door was open, and Perry sat at his desk, going through some papers. Jimmy knocked softly.  
  
Perry looked up. "What is it, Jimmy?"  
  
"Clark just called from Smallville," Jimmy replied. "Someone just tried to kill Linda."  
  
Perry furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. "What?"  
  
"Yeah," Jimmy replied. "She was, uh, jumped and tossed in the Elbow River."  
  
"Is she okay?"  
  
Jimmy nodded. "Superman saved her. She's at the Kent Farm, resting, but, um, Clark's going to stay in Smallville and find the person responsible." Perry sighed and leaned back, thinking. "Uh, Chief, I was wondering if -"  
  
"No, Jimmy," Perry interrupted.  
  
"But, Chief, someone tried to kill Linda."  
  
"Yes, I know that, but she's going to be fine - you said so yourself. You're not going to Smallville, because you're still not allowed to see her, Jimmy."  
  
"But - how did you know about that?" Jimmy asked, furrowing his eyebrows.  
  
"Clark told me," Perry replied.  
  
_Great, so my personal life is everyone's business now,_ Jimmy thought. He shook his head. _Unbelievable._ He sighed. He would get mad at Clark later. "Chief, about -"  
  
"Jimmy, I mean it. Do not go anywhere near Smallville."  
  
Jimmy sighed, frustrated and angry. He turned and stormed out of the office and over to his desk. Lois and Chloe were waiting for him. He could see they looked worried.  
  
"You okay?" Chloe asked. She knew about Jimmy's crush on Linda, and she could see Jimmy was really upset - and from what she knew about the situation, she had an inkling why.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Jimmy replied. He sighed. "I -"  
  
"Hey, you three," Perry said as he came over. "Look, I know that what happened with Clark and his family is awful, but we can't do anything for them now." He paused for a moment. "Tomorrow, I'm going to go see them to make sure everything's really okay." Jimmy opened his mouth, but Perry stopped him. "And, no, you can't go with me, Jimmy." Jimmy scowled. "Now, I know it's nearly quitting time, but I need you guys to work on something for me." He held up some papers. "Lois, you need to rewrite that article before I send it to press. Your lead isn't as strong as it can be, and you're jumping around."  
  
Lois grumbled. "Fine, Perry." She sighed, frustrated. "And I just shut down my computer."  
  
"You can use mine, Lois," Jimmy replied. He was still a little angry with Lois, but they did have work to do.  
  
"Thanks," Lois said, a bit surprised.  
  
"Oh, and Jimmy, I need you to check on some photos in development for me," Perry continued.  
  
"Okay," Jimmy replied, heading towards the elevator.  
  
"I'll help you out," Chloe said, hurrying after her young friend. She wanted to stay behind and help her cousin with her story, but she knew that Lois hated having anyone - even her own cousin - hanging over her shoulder while she worked. Besides, she knew something was up with Jimmy, and being alone with him meant she could probably coax him into confessing. She waited until they were alone on the elevator and were heading down before she took a deep breath. "So, what's going on with you, Jimmy?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"I mean the way you've been sulking around here for the past couple of weeks," Chloe replied. "And, no offense, but you've been really moody too."  
  
Jimmy sighed. "Chloe, I'd rather not talk about it."  
  
"Why not?" Chloe asked.  
  
"Because I'm not really in the mood to."  
  
Chloe sighed. "Jimmy, sometimes it's best to just get whatever's bothering you off your chest, even if you don't feel in the mood."   
  
Jimmy shook his head as the elevator stopped on their floor and the doors opened. He walked out, heading to the dark room. Chloe was a little annoyed at being left out of the loop, and she hurried after her young fried.  
  
"Jimmy, come on," she prodded gently. "Please. Whatever it is, I promise I won't say a word to anyone." Jimmy chuckled mirthlessly. "What?"  
  
"I've heard that one before," he replied.  
  
Chloe sighed. "Jimmy, in the entire time we've known each other, have I ever betrayed your trust by breaking a promise?"  
  
Jimmy didn't say anything as he opened the door to the dark room and walked in. He went to work on plucking the photos from the clothespins and started sorting them. "I'm fine, really."  
  
"Uh, huh," Chloe replied. "Yeah, I'm convinced." She watched as Jimmy continued to sort the photos, trying to think of ways to break down the photographer's barriers and find out what was bothering her young friend.  
  
(End of Chapter 4) 


	5. Chapter 5

- - - -  
  
Perry glanced at Lois as she retrieved a disk from her desk and came back over. She snatched the papers from Perry and went to Jimmy's desk. Perry turned and headed back to his office as Lois got to work. She put her disk in Jimmy's laptop and moved the cursor to open her story, but a shortcut icon on the desktop caught her eye. It was labeled 'LettertoLinda.' Lois furrowed her eyebrows, and she knew she should work on her story, but she wanted to see what the document. Not hesitating one bit the reporter clicked on the document, opening it in the computer's word processor. Lois started reading the document:  
  
_Dear Linda,  
  
Writing this letter has been the hardest thing I've ever done. It's not easy to say what I feel, but I need to. So much has happened since we met that I don't know where to begin, but I guess the best thing to do is just say what I have to say.  
  
Linda, ever since I first saw you I haven't been able to forget you. You're smart, funny, talented, caring, compassionate, and, well, I hope this doesn't embarrass you, but you're really beautiful too. You've got this wonderful smile, and I really like the way your eyes dance when you laugh. You have this way of looking at the world differently . . . and that's not something that too many people (especially people our age) do. I'm not saying that's a bad thing - it's a really good thing, actually. More people need to look at the world the way you do; it might make this world a better place . . . I know it already has for me.  
  
Linda, this isn't easy for me to say, but I really like you. You gave me the best birthday present that night we kissed in the loft. _  
  
Lois' eyebrows shot up her forehead. She blinked and reread that sentence, hoping she hadn't seen what she thought she read:  
  
_You gave me the best birthday present that night we kissed in the loft.  
_  
There it was, plain as day, right in front of her face, but Lois still couldn't believe it: Jimmy had cheated on her little sister - with Clark's cousin. The reporter shook her head slightly in disbelief. Her friend - someone she trusted - had cheated on Lucy with Clark's cousin - someone she was growing fond of. Her story forgotten, the anger building in her, Lois grabbed her disk and then slammed the laptop shut as she got to her feet. She went to her desk and grabbed her things, then she headed for the elevators. She pressed the down button and waited, tapping her foot impatiently.   
  
After a few moments, the door opened, and Lois headed inside, but she stopped when Jimmy and Chloe stepped out. For a moment Lois was surprised, but her surprise was quickly replaced with anger as she narrowed her eyes at the young photographer.  
  
"Hey, Lois," Jimmy replied, totally missing the look Lois was giving him, "you finished already or you need some help with the laptop?"  
  
"You are a piece of work," Lois said through her teeth.  
  
"What?" Jimmy asked.  
  
Lois brushed past Jimmy and stepped into the elevator. "Chloe, I'll call you later," she said curtly, refusing to look at either her cousin or Jimmy. The doors closed, leaving Chloe and Jimmy in her proverbial dust.  
  
"Okay, what was that about?" Chloe asked.  
  
"Who knows?" Jimmy asked. He headed back to his desk as Chloe went to hers. The photographer saw his laptop was still on. The screen was on screensaver, and it flipped off when Jimmy opened, but Jimmy was focused on gathering his papers, so he didn't notice the letter to Linda on the screen as he did a hard shut down. He glanced over after his laptop turned off and closed it. He gathered his things and laptop and headed for the elevator. He stopped when Chloe came up behind him and gently grabbed his shoulder.  
  
"Jimmy, wait," she said. She really wanted to know what was bothering him. "Are you sure you don't want to -"  
  
Jimmy turned around. "Chloe, I'm running late." He really wasn't in the mood to talk with anyone at the moment, and he knew Bibbo and his mother would kill him if he showed up late at the Ace O'Clubs. He hurried to the elevator, leaving Chloe behind.  
  
Chloe growled. "You know, Jimmy, you're as bad as Clark when it comes to hogging secrets." She saw Jimmy stiffen for a brief second as he waited for the elevator. Then the doors opened, and he got on. The reporter watched him as the doors closed, then she sighed and rubbed her forehead. She loved Jimmy, but sometimes he really frustrated her. She shook her head and went to gather her things to leave.  
  
- - - -   
  
The remainder of the evening went by without incident. The Kents stayed by Linda's side, refusing to leave their daughter until she reawakened. Alfred took charge of the situation and prepared a light meal, making sure that everyone who was conscious ate something. It took some gentle prodding with all of them, but the butler was quickly satisfied. Afterward, he made sure the Kents were resting comfortably in their chairs, covered in blankets, then he tended to Dick. The boy was still pensive, still moving as though he was walking through water, though the butler knew that Bruce had spent about an hour with the teenager before dinner (neither would reveal what had happened between them during that hour). It was only after the young ward was sleeping soundly on his cot in the den - with both Krypto and Streaky nuzzled next to him - that Alfred himself retired for the evening in a cot beside Dick.   
  
Even past midnight Bruce and Clark remained in the kitchen, the only light coming from the fixture over the kitchen sink. Bruce leaned back in his char at the table, watching Clark at the other end. The young hero rested his head on his hands, his elbows planted on the table. His eyes were half-open, and he looked exhausted.  
  
"Why don't you get some rest?" Bruce suggested.  
  
Clark shook his head. "I can't, Bruce"  
  
Bruce sighed. "You can't keep worrying about her."  
  
Clark glared at his friend. "Bruce, she is my baby cousin, and she nearly died."  
  
"But she didn't."   
  
Clark looked at Bruce in disbelief. "How can you say that?"  
  
Bruce took a deep breath, "Clark, I -"  
  
"No, Bruce. You wouldn't be saying that if it had been Dick instead of Linda." Bruce didn't say anything, but he glared back at Clark. "See?"  
  
"Leave Dick out of this, Kent," Bruce growled.  
  
"Take it easy," Clark said. "All I'm saying is that -"  
  
"Clark?"  
  
Clark turned when he heard the soft voice, and he saw Linda standing at the foot of the stairs. She looked pale and dazed in her pajamas as she held the banister for support. Clark jumped from his seat and was at his cousin's side before Bruce could react.  
  
"What are you doing up?" Clark asked. "Are you okay? Where are Mom and Dad?"  
  
"They're in my room, sleeping," Linda replied slowly. "I'm hungry."  
  
In spite of his worry for Linda Clark smiled a bit as he glanced down. "You're not wearing any socks." Linda shrugged, and Clark picked her up. He carried her over to the table, gently set her down in his chair, and knelt beside her. "What do you want to eat, Short Stack?" Linda shrugged again, but she didn't protest Clark's nickname for her, so Clark knew she was still out of it. "Well, let me see what we got, and we'll go from there." Linda nodded, and Clark went to the kitchen and started preparing something for his cousin to eat.  
  
Linda settled into the chair, then she glanced over and saw Bruce sitting across the table. Her eyes widened in fear. "Clark?"  
  
Clark looked over and saw Linda's expression. He glanced at Bruce, then he looked back at Linda. "It's okay, Linda. This is Bruce Wayne. I told you about him, remember? He's my friend." Linda slowly looked at the Gothamite and fixed him with a wary glance.  
  
Bruce smiled a bit, trying to appear warm and friendly. "Hello, Linda."  
  
"Hi," Linda said shyly. She looked back at Clark as he busied himself in the kitchen, then she glanced back at Bruce. She furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head.  
  
"What?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Do you really dress up as a bat?" Linda asked. Clark had to cough to cover up his laughter.  
  
Bruce glanced at Clark, one eyebrow raised. "I take it that Clark has told you about me." Linda nodded, even though Bruce hadn't asked a question. "Well, I guess that's fair, seeing how he told me about you."  
  
"Here we go," Clark said as he came over. He held two plates piled high with so many leftovers that even Bruce was a bit surprised. He watched as Clark set the plates down in front of Linda, picked up the young girl, sat in the chair, and then settled her comfortably in his lap. Soon, the two were getting lost in their own world as Clark spoke softly to his cousin, reassuring her.   
  
The Gothamite knew his friend was a compassionate person, but this was a side of Clark he had never seen . . . and it intrigued him. He watched with eyebrows raised as the young girl shoveled food into her mouth from both plates, momentarily forgetting that the tiny being was an alien and capable of more things than she appeared.  
  
"So, how did you manage to sneak past Mom and Dad?" Clark asked his cousin.  
  
Linda shrugged. "I was really quiet. I guess they didn't hear me. They seemed really tired . . . and scared."  
  
"Well, they're worried about you," Clark replied. "And so am I."  
  
"I'm sorry," Linda whispered, ducking her head.  
  
"Hey, hey," Clark said as he used a finger and gently caught her chin, turning her face to him. "What happened is not your fault."  
  
"But they snuck up on me," Linda said as her eyes filled with tears. "They shouldn't have been able to do that."  
  
"Doesn't mean it can't happen," Bruce spoke up. Linda looked over. "I've been able to sneak up on Kent numerous times, and I don't have powers." Linda looked at Clark, and he shrugged.  
  
"He's right," he replied. He glanced at Bruce. "Though I think 'numerous' is a bit of an overstatement."  
  
Bruce snorted. "You wish."  
  
"Is everything all right, Master Bruce?" Alfred asked as he padded softly in. He wore a conservative pair of dark-colored pajamas, matching slippers, and a bathrobe. He looked tired as he yawned, but he made an effort to look wide awake.  
  
"Everything's fine, Alfred," Bruce replied. He nodded at Linda. "Look who's up and about?"  
  
Alfred looked down at the young girl and smiled warmly when he recognized her. "Miss Linda, it is so good to see you awake." Linda eyed the butler warily, then she turned to Clark.  
  
"Linda, this is Alfred Pennyworth," he said, smiling. "He's Bruce's butler."  
  
"Hi," Linda replied shyly.  
  
"Hello," Alfred said, nodding politely.  
  
"Butler?" Linda asked slowly. "What do you do?"  
  
"Well, I cook and clean, and make sure that Master Bruce is taken care of," Alfred answered.  
  
"You mean he can't take care of himself?" Linda asked.  
  
Clark had to look away to hide the grin on his face as he clamped his mouth shut, using every bit of strength he had not to burst into laughter. He glanced quickly at Bruce and saw the businessman looking positively insulted.   
  
Alfred tried his best not to laugh, and he succeeded, but he couldn't keep the smile off his face. "No, my dear," he replied, "Master Bruce is more than capable of taking care of himself - to an extent. I help him manage his affairs, because he is simply too busy to handle everything on his own." He smiled warmly at Bruce. "And I've known him all his life. It would be foolish of me to leave after all these years."  
  
"And you raised him," Linda said. She knew that Bruce's parents had been killed when Clark told her about Bruce and that Alfred had pretty much raised the boy since then.  
  
Alfred nodded. "That is correct." Linda's expression suddenly changed to sadness.  
  
"What's wrong, Linda?" Clark asked.  
  
"He sounds like Rok-Var," Linda replied quietly. Clark slipped his arms around Linda as she rested her head on his shoulder. "I miss him."  
  
"I know," Clark said softly. He glanced up at Jonathan and Martha rushed down the stairs. They looked frantic, but their expressions changed to relief when they saw Linda safely in their son's lap. They hurried over.  
  
"Linda, are you okay?" Jonathan asked, cupping her face in his hands.  
  
"I'm fine, Daddy," Linda replied as Martha smoothed her daughter's hair.  
  
"Why didn't you wake us up, sweetie?" Martha asked. "Why did you leave the room?"  
  
"I was hungry," Linda replied softly. She yawned. "And I didn't want to wake you up."  
  
"Linda," Jonathan said gently, "it would have been okay to wake us up."  
  
"We were worried about you, and we want to know when you're okay," Martha replied. She took a deep breath. "Linda, when we woke up, and you weren't there . . . ." She trailed off as tears filled her eyes.  
  
"I'm sorry, Mama," Linda said softly.  
  
"It's okay, baby," Martha replied as she leaned over and kissed her daughter's forehead. "Are you still hungry?"  
  
"No, she got some food in her," Clark replied.  
  
"Then why don't we get you back up to bed?" Martha suggested, looking at her children. "You look tired - both of you." Linda yawned and nodded as she leaned against Clark and snuggled close to him. Clark was too tired to protest, so he got to his feet, holding Linda in his arms.  
  
"Don't worry about the dishes," Alfred said as the four Kents headed up the stairs. "I'll take care of them."  
  
"Thank you, Alfred," Jonathan replied.  
  
"Goodnight, Alfred," Linda said sleepily.  
  
"Goodnight, miss," Alfred replied.  
  
"'Night, Bruce," Linda mumbled, half awake.   
  
Bruce grunted softly, still a little insulted by Linda's earlier comment.   
  
"Clark?" Linda asked. Her voice was soft and low, but the Gothamites could still hear her as Clark carried her upstairs.  
  
"Yes?" Clark asked.  
  
"I like Alfred," Linda replied, "but Bruce seems a bit grumpy."  
  
Clark glanced down at the table and saw that Bruce had an eyebrow raised, while Alfred looked amused. Clark couldn't help but smile. "Yeah," he replied, "he is a little grumpy at times, but you're in luck. You caught him at his best time of the day." He knew Bruce would have it out with him later about that, but he couldn't help ribbing his friend every once in a while. Linda didn't say anything as she closed her eyes and started drifting off. Clark just held her has headed down the hall to her room.  
  
"He really does have a death wish, doesn't he?" Bruce asked, his eyes narrowed.  
  
"Oh, he's just having a good sport, Master Bruce," Alfred replied, grinning. Bruce looked up at his friend, and he couldn't believe that the butler wasn't even trying to hide the fact that he was amused by Clark's comment. "Might I suggest you retire for the evening yourself, sir?"  
  
Indignant, Bruce snorted and crossed his arms. "Not yet, Alfred," he said.  
  
"Very well," Alfred replied. "Goodnight, sir." Bruce snorted a reply, and then Alfred left the businessman and headed back to the den, just as Krypto and Streaky pattered in. He glanced down at the pets as they wandered over to the table. They stopped when they saw Bruce looking at them. He raised an eyebrow at them, and they turned and scampered up the stairs. Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes before leaning back in his chair.  
  
(End of Chapter 5) 


	6. Chapter 6

- - - -  
  
The sun was shining brightly through Linda's bedroom window as Clark stirred and opened his eyes. He blinked and rubbed his eyes at the brightness, then he looked down at his side. Linda was curled up on her side, sleeping soundly. Both Krypto and Streaky were at the foot of the bed, both curled up and sleeping. Clark allowed himself a small smile before he glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand. He winced when he saw it was almost eight-thirty and carefully climbed out from under the sheets. The chairs Jonathan and Martha had occupied were empty, the blankets folded neatly on them. Must be out doing the chores, he thought as he put on his socks and shoes.   
  
"Clark?"  
  
Clark looked over as Linda slowly sat up, rubbing her eyes. She looked groggy, but her cheeks had a slight color to them, and her eyes weren't as clouded over as they had been the previous night.  
  
"Hey, Short Stack," he said softly. "How you feeling?"  
  
Linda yawned and stretched. "A little stiff."  
  
"Nothing a hot bath probably won't fix," Clark replied.  
  
"But what about the chores?" Linda asked as she slowly got out of bed. She looked only slightly dazed, but she stayed upright without any support.  
  
"Don't worry about the chores," Clark said as he walked over to her. He nodded at the gauze on her head. "Mind if I look?" Linda shrugged, and Clark carefully peeled back the gauze. He was glad to see the wound was already healing and knew by the end of the day it'd probably be completely gone. He put the gauze securely back over the wound. "Well, everything looks good." He leaned over and kissed her forehead. "Now, why don't you grab a hot bath?"  
  
"'Kay," Linda replied. She watched as Clark left the room, then she turned back to her pets. They were still passed out on her bed, now sprawled out. She smiled slightly as she got out of her pajamas and into her terry robe. She padded into the bathroom and shut the door behind her, then she went over to the tub and started the water, making sure it was just the right temperature. She took her bottle of lavender bubble bath from the closet and poured in a generous amount, then she put it aside and sat on the edge of the tub, watching the foam build in the water.  
  
- - - -   
  
Clark hurried down the stairs, and he stopped short when he saw his father at the kitchen table. Jonathan was reading the newspaper and drinking coffee . . . and he looked completely relaxed. Martha and Alfred were in the kitchen, preparing a breakfast of pancakes, eggs, toast, and bacon. Clark furrowed his eyebrows as his father looked up from the paper.  
  
Jonathan was still upset that his son was purposefully avoiding him and the discussion that the farmer vowed they were going to have, but he was glad that his son looked better than he had the previous evening, and he smiled a bit. "Morning, sleepyhead," he said, putting the paper down. Alfred and Martha looked over.  
  
"Did you sleep well, Clark?" Martha asked.  
  
"Yeah," Clark replied slowly. "Uh, what's going on?"  
  
"Breakfast, sir," Alfred answered. "Are you hungry?"  
  
"A little," Clark replied. He glanced at his father uneasily. He was still walking on eggshells, not sure what his father was going to do with him. "What about the chores, Dad?"  
  
"Bruce is outside, finishing them up," Jonathan replied. "We've both been up since the crack of dawn."  
  
Clark's eyes widened, momentarily forgetting his apprehension. "Bruce is doing chores?"  
  
Jonathan nodded. "Yeah, he offered to help, so you and Linda could get some rest."  
  
"Yeah, you got a problem with it, Kent?" Bruce asked as he walked in the kitchen door. He had borrowed a pair of Jonathan's work clothes, and he looked dirty and sweaty. Clark had never seen his friend in that condition - and he was speechless.  
  
Bruce walked over to the stool, where Martha was waiting with a freshly-poured cup of coffee. The Gothamite nodded his thanks and went to preparing the steamy brew to his personal preference.  
  
"Is Linda still asleep?" Martha asked Clark.  
  
"No, she's taking a bath," Clark explained. "She said she was a little stiff, but she's got some color back in her cheeks, her eyes aren't too cloudy, and her head's even on the mend."  
  
"Well, that's good to know," Jonathan replied. He was thankful his daughter was feeling better, but his son was there and they were going to deal with Clark's behavior now. "Sit down, Clark. We need to talk."  
  
Clark raised an eyebrow. He knew what was going on, and he was tempted to come up with an excuse to avoid his father again, but he knew the only thing he'd really accomplish was upsetting the farmer more, and that was not something he wanted to do. He sighed as he walked over to the table and took the seat opposite his father, bracing himself for what was about to happen.  
  
- - - -  
  
Dick yawned and stretched under his blanket. He actually felt rested, something that hadn't happened since . . . well, since that night. He quickly pushed those memories aside as he slowly got to his feet. He stretched again as he headed towards the kitchen, hungry, but then he heard the voices in there and froze. He wasn't in the mood to deal with the adults at the moment . . . and he wanted to wash his face and use the bathroom anyway. He headed up the front stairs, trying to remember where he had been told the bathroom was.  
  
- - - -  
  
Linda sighed with content as she soaked under the water and foam, her face the only part of her body not under the water. Her muscles were loosening, and she felt relaxed and revitalized at the same time. She made a mental note to take more baths in the future; they were great for relaxing and even temporarily forget about one's troubles.  
  
The young girl scooped a small amount of foam into her hands and blew it softly into the air, smiling as she watched the flecks gently float down. One of them landed on her nose, and she stared cross-eyed at it for a moment. She was reaching up to brush it away when the door opened. Linda looked over, expecting to see her mother, and her eyes went wide with shock when she saw an unfamiliar boy looking back at her.  
  
- - - -  
  
Jonathan was in the middle of explaining to his son why it was inexcusable to lie about his injuries to family when a loud shriek filled the entire house. Everyone looked over at the kitchen stairs as Clark got to his feet. He had recognized the voice in the shriek as his cousin's, and he was about to hurry up the stairs and come to her rescue when Dick came tearing down the stairs like a . . . well, a bat out of hell. He looked like he had seen a ghost as he jumped the last stairs and hurried over to Alfred, hiding behind the butler.  
  
Alfred glanced down at the young boy, surprised. He looked over to Bruce, and he could see a look of hurt briefly cross the businessman's face. The expression was short lived as everyone heard another set of feet coming down the stairs. They looked over as Linda came running down the stairs - dripping wet, swathed only in a towel she was holding closed with her left hand. She held up a plunger in her right hand, and the others could see her murderous expression as she reached the foot of the stairs.  
  
"Where is he?" she growled as water dripped onto the wooden floor.  
  
Jonathan got to his feet. "Linda, what on Earth -"  
  
"You!" Linda shouted as she spotted Dick hiding behind Alfred. She headed towards him, the plunger raised, but Clark blurred in front of her, blocking her and taking the plunger from his cousin.  
  
"Hold it," he said. "What happened? Are you okay?"  
  
"I was fine until he" she glared at Dick "walked in on me while I was in the bathtub!" She fixed the young boy with a fierce look that implied she intended to do bodily harm to him if she got her hands on him. "Don't you know how to knock?"  
  
"It was an accident!" Dick protested. "I didn't mean to! Honest!" Linda growled, and her eyes glowed fiery orange for a brief moment as she edged forward.   
  
Clark stopped Linda, standing between her and Dick. "Hey, hey, take it easy, Short Stack. There's no need for that."  
  
"But he -"  
  
"Linda," Clark interrupted, "we'll deal with what he did, but that doesn't mean you get to fry him."  
  
"You were going to use your heat vision?" Jonathan asked, frowning as he walked over. He was glad to see his daughter was feeling better but not about what he just heard. He tried to ignore the fact that Linda was clothed only in the towel, so he just stared at her face. "Young lady, what have we told you about misusing your powers?"  
  
Linda looked up at her father, her expression softening, her eyes becoming big and bright. "But Daddy -"  
  
"Don't 'but Daddy' me, Linda," Jonathan interrupted. "Now, I want you to go upstairs and get dressed and stay in your room to cool off. You can come down when you're ready to discuss thing in a calm and rational manner."  
  
Linda furrowed her eyebrows. "You're taking his side?"  
  
"We're not taking anyone's side," Jonathan replied. "Now, go upstairs."  
  
Martha glanced briefly at her husband before she hurried over to Linda. "Come on, sweetie," she said, putting her arm around Linda's shoulders. "I'll help you get dressed." She gently guiding Linda up the stairs, leaving the men in the kitchen.  
  
"Well, it's good to see Miss Linda feeling . . . better," Alfred said. He turned around and glanced down at the young ward, then he glanced over at Bruce, giving him a look to take charge of the situation.  
  
Bruce looked reluctant, but Alfred fixed him with a stare, and the businessman cleared his throat as he looked at Dick. "Uh, Dick, would you care to explain why you walked in on Linda while she was taking a bath?"  
  
Dick cowered slightly, knowing he was in hot water. "I - I - I - I . . . it was an accident. I didn't know she was in there. Honest. I didn't hear any noises."  
  
"So, you just walked in?" Bruce asked. Alfred cleared his throat loudly, chiding Bruce for his harsh tone. Bruce sighed, his tone softening. "Dick, look. We're guests here, and in the future, you might want to remember to knock if the door is closed - period." Dick nodded, hanging his head. "Now, why don't you go get dressed?" Alfred cleared his throat again. "After you've had breakfast."  
  
Dick looked up, a little surprised. He wasn't sure what to do, and he looked up at Alfred. The butler smiled warmly and put a hand on the boy's shoulder. Dick felt a little more at ease, and he headed to the kitchen table, taking a seat. As Alfred prepared a plate for Dick, Jonathan fixed Clark with a look that said they were going to finish their discussion now. Clark nodded and headed for the kitchen door, handing the plunger to Bruce.   
  
Bruce eyed Clark as he went outside, followed by Jonathan, then he glanced at the plunger in his hand. He set it on the floor and went back to drinking his coffee, a small smile playing on his lips as he thought about the event that had just played out in the kitchen. He hadn't been too thrilled at the fact that Linda had threatened Dick, but he had been amused by her fiery temper (a total opposite of her cousin's), and that almost made Bruce a little more inclined to put up with her insults (innocent as they were).   
  
Almost.  
  
(End of Chapter 6) 


	7. Chapter 7

- - - -  
  
Martha watched from the dresser, arms crossed, as Linda sat on her bed and slipped her arms through the sleeves of a large t-shirt. She had already put on a pair of sweat pants and thick fuzzy socks. She glanced over and saw the look her mother was giving her. It wasn't a look of anger, but one of curiosity. The young girl knew that threatening Dick with her heat vision was wrong, as was getting so mad at him, and she winced as though Martha was angry with her.   
  
"I'm sorry," she said softly.  
  
Martha came over and sat beside her daughter. "I know you are, but maybe we should talk about what happened between you and Dick."  
  
"That was Dick?" Linda asked. Martha nodded. "Huh."  
  
"What is it?" Martha asked.  
  
Linda shrugged. "I don't know . . . I thought he'd be . . . taller."  
  
"Linda," Martha gently chided her daughter.  
  
"Sorry," Linda replied. She sighed. "And I'm sorry about getting so mad."  
  
"Why did you get mad?" Martha asked.  
  
Linda shrugged. "I don't know . . . I guess . . . he startled me." She looked up with tears in her eyes. "Just like the people who attacked me."  
  
Martha felt her heart ache as she put her arms around her daughter and gently hugged her. It all made sense now. "Oh, baby," she whispered as Linda rested her head on Martha's shoulder. There was a gentle knock on the bedroom door. "Come in."  
  
The door opened, and Alfred walked in with a tray in his hands. The tray held a plate of breakfast food, a small glass of orange juice, and a fork. "I wasn't sure if Miss Linda was hungry or not," he said, "but I brought up a plate for her just the same."  
  
"I am a little hungry," Linda admitted as she sat up. Alfred nodded and came over with the tray, handing the tray to Martha.  
  
"Thank you, Alfred," Martha replied.  
  
"Is Dick okay?" Linda asked the butler. "I didn't mean to get mad at him."  
  
"I know you didn't, miss," Alfred replied. "And don't worry about Master Dick. He'll be fine." He politely nodded, excusing himself and closing the door behind him. Martha handed the tray to Linda, and Linda slowly started eating.  
  
"Linda," Martha said as she watched her daughter eat, "I know you didn't mean to get mad at Dick, but I think you should apologize to him just that same, especially for threatening him with the plunger and your heat vision."  
  
Linda nodded and continued eating. Martha smiled and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the small hairbrush and a rubber band. While her daughter ate her breakfast Martha started brushing Linda's hair and styling it into a loose French braid.  
  
- - - -  
  
Clark sat on the porch swing as his father stood nearby, towering over him, arms folded. The young hero didn't have to see his father's expression to know his father was angry with him. He sighed. "Dad, I know -"  
  
"Clark," Jonathan interrupted, "I love you, but now would be a good time for you to be quiet and just listen to what I have to say." He waited for his son to acknowledge that before the farmer started talking again. "Now, first of all, we need to talk about why you felt it was necessary for you to not tell us you weren't feeling well after being exposed to kryptonite. Secondly, you're going to explain to me why instead of talking to me, you felt it was better to just ignore me. That's not behaving like an adult, Clark. That's acting like a child."  
  
"Dad, it wasn't important to begin with," Clark replied.  
  
"Clark, your health - your well being - is important to us," Jonathan said. "We've had this discussion before - both with you and Linda - who knows how many times. We're still having to have this discussion with both of you. Is there something in your Kryptonian genes that prevents us from getting through to you, because then maybe your mother and I can begin to understand why you and Linda can be so thick-headed at times."  
  
Clark was tempted to comeback with a snarky remark, but he knew if he said what was on his mind at the moment . . . well, kryptonite would be a walk in the park compared to what his father would do to him. In the interest of staying in one piece, Clark wisely kept his mouth shut.  
  
Jonathan sighed as he sat next to his son. "Clark, talk to me," he said, his tone softening. "I know you're an adult, but you're still my son, and when you get hurt - no matter how miniscule it may seem at the time - I still worry about you. And no matter what you say about me not needing to, I always will."  
  
"Dad, I just didn't want you to waste time worrying about me when you had Linda to worry about," Clark replied.  
  
"Waste time?" Jonathan asked. He bristled a bit, but he remained calm. "Clark Jerome Kent, you are my son. I do not waste my time doing something with or for you - ever. And if you think that, then maybe we need to have a discussion about that as well."  
  
Clark sighed. "Dad, I didn't mean it like that. It's just . . . ."  
  
"Just what?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"It's just that Linda needs you more," Clark replied. "You need to worry more about her, especially now. She doesn't know how to take care of herself yet. I do."  
  
Jonathan sighed. It all started to make a little more sense for him; he could clearly hear in his son's voice what Clark was really saying. He put a hand on Clark's shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Clark, just because you're not around here as much as Linda is, it doesn't mean you're any less important to us. You're still our son; you have always been, and you always will be, and that won't change, no matter how grown up you become or how far away you live."  
  
Clark slowly looked up at his father and into those familiar blue eyes. He searched for any sign of false pretense, but there wasn't any. The young man could see nothing but love and affection radiating back at him . . . and he surrendered to it. Clark leaned over and lay his head on his father's shoulder. He closed his eyes and softly sighed. Jonathan rested his head against his son's and moved his hand to Clark's back, rubbing it gently in small circles. After a few moments, he could feel the young man starting to relax, and Jonathan smiled.  
  
"And one more thing," he whispered into his son's ear.  
  
"Yeah?" Clark asked softly.  
  
"I'm glad you're feeling better," Jonathan replied.  
  
Clark smiled, keeping his eyes closed as he and his father just rocked in the swing.  
  
- - - -  
  
Thirty minutes later Alfred was in the kitchen, rinsing off all the dishes while Bruce hand dried them with a towel and stacked them neatly nearby. Jonathan and Clark had returned from the outside and were sitting at the table, side by side, drinking coffee. Dick had retreated to the barn when the Kent men came in, and everyone knew it was probably best to leave him alone for the time being.  
  
Bruce had just finished drying the last plate when Martha and Linda came down the stairs. Everyone looked over, wondering if the young girl's temperament had settled down, and by her subdued look they could see it was. Jonathan and Clark glanced at Martha, wondering if she had anything to do with that, but she just looked back at them with an expression that clearly said she wasn't. The Kent girls walked over to the table, and Martha took the seat next to her husband while Linda climbed up into her father's lap.  
  
"I'm sorry, Daddy," she said softly, nuzzling into Jonathan's chest.  
  
"I know you are, sweetie," Jonathan replied as he wrapped his arms around his daughter. He leaned over close to her. "But why did you get so mad at Dick?"  
  
"Because he snuck up on me," Linda answered.   
  
"Just like the people who attacked her did," Martha added, fixing her husband with a look.  
  
Jonathan nodded slowly, understanding what his wife was getting at. He kissed Linda's cheek. "Honey, do you know why we got upset with you earlier?"  
  
Linda nodded. "Because I threatened Dick with the plunger." Jonathan waited. "And my heat vision." Her eyes became wide. "I'm really sorry, Daddy. I didn't mean to get so mad. I'll apologize to Dick, I promise. Just don't be mad at me anymore."  
  
Jonathan hugged Linda tightly. "Sweetie, I'm not mad at you."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Really."  
  
Linda paused. "Does this mean I still have to apologize to Dick?"  
  
Jonathan gave her a gentle look. "What do you think?"  
  
"I think I better go apologize to him," Linda replied.  
  
Jonathan smiled. "Good girl."  
  
Linda looked around. "Where is he?"  
  
"Master Dick is currently residing in the barn again," Alfred replied. Linda furrowed her eyebrows slightly, and Jonathan could see something was weighing heavy on her mind.  
  
"What is it, Linda?"  
  
"Well, I'm curious about something," Linda replied slowly.  
  
"About what?" Clark asked.   
  
Linda looked at Alfred. "Does Dick always walk into rooms where the door is closed?"  
  
"The rules at Wayne Manor are the same as those here at your home, miss," Alfred replied. "One must always knock on a door before entering a room. Master Dick is well aware of this rule, but I'm afraid he's been in the presence of a certain someone who possesses less than admirable mannerisms at times." He fixed Bruce with a knowing look.   
  
"Hey, don't be putting this on me," Bruce replied as he walked over to a stool and sat down.  
  
"Master Bruce has fallen into the bad habit of just barging into rooms without first knocking," Alfred replied, ignoring Bruce for the moment. "And Master Dick, I'm afraid, is feeling that this has become an acceptable habit. So, on behalf of Master Bruce, I am sorry, miss."  
  
"It's okay," Linda replied. She smiled at Bruce. "I forgive you, Bruce."  
  
Bruce looked incredulous, not believing what he was hearing. He didn't care that Linda was an alien or that she didn't know what she was actually talking about time. She had just insulted him - again. He growled as he got up from his stool and stormed into the living room.  
  
Linda fixed Clark with a worried look. "Is he still grumpy?"  
  
Clark smiled. "Don't worry about him. He'll be fine." His smile slowly faded. "Uh, Short Stack, do you feel up to talking about what happened yesterday?" Linda looked hesitant as she leaned against her father. "Linda, we need to know what happened so we can find the people responsible."  
  
"People?" Jonathan asked. "You mean, there was more than one person?" Linda nodded slowly. Jonathan sighed. "How many people were there?"  
  
"Three," Linda replied quietly. She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to focus, but she shook her head after a few moments. "I don't remember much of anything else." She looked apologetic. "I'm sorry."  
  
Jonathan kissed her forehead. "It's okay, sweetie."  
  
"Maybe I can help," Clark said. Everyone looked at him questioningly. "Linda's not the only telepath around here." He glanced at his cousin. "Wanna give it a try?" Linda looked hesitant, but she slowly nodded. Clark gently helped Linda turn to face him, and he took a deep breath. He had never done this before, but he wanted to know what had happened to his cousin and who was responsible for it. He slowly raised his hands to Linda's temples, palms touching the sides of her head. The young hero closed his eyes and concentrated.  
  
The images flashed through his mind like a person flipping through channels on a television set. From Linda's viewpoint he saw a group of three people wearing dark green jackets with an insignia and black ski masks . . . one of the people raised the large piece of kryptonite and swong it down . . . the interior of a vehicle . . . being dragged out and lifted over the Loeb Bridge and falling into the murky water of the Elbow River . . . and then he saw blackness.  
  
Both Clark and Linda's eyes flew open, and they gasped as their hearts raced. Seeing both of their children in distress the parents immediately jumped into action. Jonathan comforted Linda while Martha tended to her son. Alfred stayed nearby, keeping his distance from the family but ready to jump in if he was needed. After a few minutes, both Clark and Linda had calmed down.  
  
"What did you see, Clark?" Jonathan gently asked.  
  
Clark shook his head as Martha kept her arm around her son. "Just flashes, Dad," he answered slowly. "Nothing that could really help . . . except . . . ."  
  
"Except what?" Martha asked.  
  
Clark turned to Linda. "I saw an insignia on the jackets of the people who attacked you, but I couldn't really make out what it was. Were you able to?"  
  
Linda shook her head. "I'm sorry."  
  
Jonathan kissed Linda's forehead again. "Don't be sorry, sweetie. We're not mad at you." He glanced at his son and wife. "Uh, Linda, why don't you go out to the barn and apologize to Dick, okay?" Linda nodded and climbed down from her father's lap. She slowly walked out the kitchen door and closed it behind her.  
  
"Okay, what was that about?" Martha asked.  
  
"We're going to figure out what to do about the finding out who attacked Linda," Jonathan replied. "And I don't want to talk about it around her."  
  
"So, what do we do?" Clark asked.  
  
"Well, first of all, there is no 'we,' Clark," Jonathan replied.  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?" Clark asked.  
  
"It means you are not going to investigate this," Jonathan answered.  
  
Clark frowned. "But, Dad, I -"  
  
"Clark," Jonathan interrupted, "whoever attacked Linda used kryptonite against her. Now, I have a feeling they didn't realize it would affect her the way it did, but I still don't want you getting involved and risking your well being again."  
  
"So, you're going to investigate this by yourself?" Clark asked.  
  
"As much as I want to," Jonathan replied, "I know someone else who is more qualified." He looked to the living room. "Bruce!"   
  
A few moments passed before Bruce came walking in, still looking upset. "What?" he asked.  
  
"Bruce, I know you're here for personal reasons," Jonathan said, "but would you be up to investigating who attacked Linda?"  
  
"Why can't Clark?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Because kryptonite has already been used against my daughter," Jonathan replied. "And I do not want my son being the next victim."  
  
Bruce opened his mouth to protest (he was in town for other reasons, and the last thing he really wanted to do was play detective), but then Jonathan fixed him with a piercing look that said the farmer wasn't going to take no for an answer, regardless of who Bruce was. The businessman winced inwardly, but he showed no outward sign of surrender. He simply set his features and crossed his arms.  
  
"Fine," he said coolly. He turned and left, getting to the hallway before he stopped and turned around. "You're lucky I always carry an extra cape and cowl with me." He marched into the hallway.  
  
Alfred glanced at the Kents at the table, a smile playing on his lips. Jonathan looked up at the butler, and the two shared a look of satisfaction. Martha saw the look on her husband's face, and she glanced at Clark, eyebrows raised. Clark had to admit he was a little amused as seeing Bruce put in his place (especially by his father), but part of him couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen to Smallville now that Bruce was going to be in town for a while.  
  
(End of Chapter 7) 


	8. Chapter 8

- - - -  
  
Linda slowly entered the barn and looked around. She didn't see any sign of Dick on the ground floor, and she looked up at the loft. She focused and concentrated, but her strength still wasn't up to where it had been before her exposure. She sighed softly and quietly headed up the loft stairs. She stopped at the top and saw Dick standing off to one side. His back was to her, and he was looking at some of her finished paintings.  
  
"So, you an art lover?" she asked.  
  
Dick whirled around, startled. He saw Linda standing near the stairs, and his eyes widened as he backed up, putting his hands up defensively. "Look, I'm really sorry about walking in on you. It was an accident. I swear!"  
  
"I know," Linda replied calmly. She looked apologetic herself. "I'm really sorry I threatened you with the plunger . . ." she looked sheepish, "and my heat vision . . . ."  
  
Dick kept his distance from the young girl. He was a little put off by her behavior, a total opposite of what he had witnessed earlier, but he could sense the sincerity in her voice and appearance. He slowly put his hands down. "It's okay," he said. "I should have knocked."  
  
"Yeah, you should have," Linda replied. "But I shouldn't have gotten so mad. It's just . . . ." She sighed. "After what happened yesterday . . . it kinda freaked me out having someone sneak up on me."  
  
"I'm sorry," Dick said sincerely.  
  
"You've already apologized," Linda replied, smiling a bit. "You know, I don't think we were properly introduced." She held out a hand. "I'm Linda."  
  
Dick eyed the outstretched hand warily, but after a few moments he slowly walked over and shook Linda's hand. "Dick." He eyed the young girl. "So, uh, you're really an alien."  
  
Linda nodded. "Yep."  
  
Dick nodded, and then shuffled his feet, trying to think of something to say. "So, uh, can you . . . fly?"  
  
Linda shook her head. "Not yet. I just have strength, speed, invulnerability - but not like Clark, x-ray vision, heat vision, telepathy, and telekinesis."  
  
Dick raised an eyebrow. "You're . . . telekinetic?" Linda nodded. "And telepathic?"  
  
"You didn't know?" Linda asked.  
  
"No," Dick replied. "Uh, Bruce didn't really get a chance to give me all the details. All he told me was that he was friends with Superman, who's Clark Kent, and now Clark has a cousin from outer space living with him - you. " He sighed. "He's not much for talking about things more than he has to."  
  
Linda looked sympathetic. "I'm sorry."  
  
Dick shrugged. "No biggie." He furrowed his eyebrows. "So, uh, can I ask you a question? I mean, if it's okay with you."  
  
"Sure," Linda replied.  
  
"I've always been interested in aliens," Dick said. "Do you . . . I mean . . . would you mind telling me more about . . . well, what it's like being an alien?"  
  
Linda furrowed her eyebrows. "Um, sure," she said slowly. It wasn't that she didn't want to talk about her past (it was actually getting a little easier to talk about former life). She just found it strange that anyone outside her family would want to know about her.  
  
"Are you sure?" Dick asked, sensing her hesitation. "If you don't want to talk about it -"  
  
"No, that's fine, really," Linda interrupted. She glanced up at him. "If I tell you about me, would it be okay if you told me more about you?"  
  
Dick tilted his head and raised an eyebrow. "Huh."  
  
"What?" Linda asked.  
  
"Oh, it's just that no one's really wanted to know about me," Dick answered slowly.  
  
"If you don't want to, you don't have to," Linda replied. She shrugged. "I kinda know what it's like to have a past that's hard to talk about."  
  
Dick pursed his lips as he looked back at the paintings. "Um, can I think about it?" he asked.  
  
Linda nodded. "Sure." She walked over and stood next to him. "So, you like my paintings?"  
  
"You made these?" Dick asked.   
  
Linda nodded. "Every single painting."  
  
"Wow," Dick replied softly, staring at them in awe.  
  
Linda noticed his expression. "You want me to tell you about each of them?"  
  
Dick looked at her, then he slowly smiled a bit. "Sure." Linda returned the smile as she walked over to her paintings.  
  
- - - -  
  
Chloe slowly paced in Lois' living room, the cordless phone next to her ear as she listened to the ringing. Once, twice, three . . .   
  
"You've reached Jimmy Olsen," she heard when his voicemail picked up. "I can't take your call right now, but leave your name, number, the time you called, and a message, and I'll get back to you ASAP.'  
  
"Hey, it's me," Chloe said, cheerfully. "Just checking in to see how you're doing. Give me a holler. I'll be at Lois' for the rest of the day. Bye." She hung up the phone, and then she sighed, frustrated, as she slammed the cordless onto the coffee table. She couldn't believe that Jimmy was still holding out on her, even though she had to admit he was doing a good job of keeping his resolve. Still, she was upset she hadn't been able to solve what was bothering Jimmy.  
  
"So, couldn't reach the loser?" Lois asked as she came out of the kitchen with a large tray full of freshly chopped fruit in a bowl. She set the bowl on the coffee table and plopped onto the couch.  
  
Chloe sighed as she sat next to her cousin. "He's not a loser, Lois."  
  
"He cheated on Lucy . . . with Linda."  
  
"I know," Chloe replied. Lois had told her about Jimmy's letter the night before, and she could understand why Lois was upset, but she couldn't feel as mad at Jimmy as she knew her cousin was. Lucy may have been her cousin, but it didn't mean she was fond of her. She loved her younger cousin, but she didn't like her all that much. She found Lucy to be spoiled and selfish, and even downright mean at times. Linda, in Chloe's mind, had her quirks (she was an alien, after all), but she and Jimmy just seemed . . . more compatible than Lucy and Jimmy. Chloe would never say that out loud, especially to Lois, because Lois loved her baby sister and was fiercely protective of her. "But, um, regardless of what Jimmy did, don't you think you're wrong for invading his privacy?"  
  
"Look who's talking," Lois snarked, "Miss I-Have-to-Know-Everything." She sighed. "I can't believe you're defending him."  
  
"I'm not defending Jimmy for kissing Linda," Chloe replied. "I'm just saying -"  
  
"I don't want to talk about it," Lois interrupted as she leaned back and folded her arms. Chloe eyed her for a moment, but she knew better than to argue with her cousin when she was in one of her moods. She sighed and leaned back. A movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention, and she looked up as Lois' sister came walking in.  
  
Lucy Lane was a brunette like her sister, but she had green eyes and was a couple inches shorter than Lois. She wore a cascade blue cotton/Lycra ribbed v-neck sweater, black stretch leggings, and white fuzzy socks. She eyed her sister and cousin warily, then she sighed and plopped down into the recliner near the couch. She looked bored as she grabbed the remote and turned on the television.  
  
"Anything on?" she asked as she flipped through the channels.  
  
"Luce," Lois said, "Chloe and I were talking."  
  
"About what?" Lucy asked.  
  
"Just a story from work," Chloe replied quickly. As much as she wasn't fond of her young cousin, Chloe knew Lucy didn't need to hear about her boyfriend cheating on her - at least, not while Chloe was there. Lucy also had a temper, and Chloe didn't want to be around her when she exploded. Lucy snorted and went back to her television watching. Chloe and Lois eyed each other, and shrugged. They knew their conversation was far from over, but it was on hold for the remainder of the day. The two reporters started devouring the contents of the fruit plate as they watched television.  
  
- - - -  
  
"And that's how I ended up with Bruce," Dick said softly.  
  
"That's awful," Linda replied. She reached over and put a hand on Dick's shoulder. "I'm sorry."  
  
Dicks shrugged. "I'll live, I guess. I mean, I guess I shouldn't whine too much. My childhood was great compared to yours. I at least had parents who loved me."  
  
"You're not whining, Dick," Linda replied. "And I had Rok-Var. He was like a father to me." She shook her head. "Hearing that he had been murdered . . . ." She shrugged.  
  
Dick and Linda were silent as they pondered their conversation - as they calmly swung upside down, back and forth, twenty feet above the ground. The young girl had been a little weirded out when Dick suggested that, but he calmly explained that as a former acrobat she had nothing to worry about. Pretty soon, they were swinging by ropes, their ankles tied at one end, the other ends tied to the rafters overhead. For added protection in case the ropes did break - more so for Dick's safety than her own - Linda added a telekinetic aura of support.  
  
"Okay," Dick replied. "So, we've talked about both of our pasts. What do you want to talk about now?" Linda shrugged, and Dick smiled a bit. "How about . . . what do you think of Earth?"  
  
"What?" Linda asked.  
  
"What do you think of Earth?" Dick repeated his question. "Come on, Linda. You've been here roughly . . . four months. I'm not an expert on aliens or anything, but I don't think you would have become used to living here already." He shrugged. "Even humans still aren't used to living here after years."  
  
Linda chuckled. "Well, to be honest," she said, "I have to say that Earth is really . . . weird."  
  
Dick laughed out loud - really laughed - for the first time since the loss of his parents. It felt odd after not doing it for so long, but at the same time it felt good. Really good. Linda wasn't sure what was so funny about her statement, but she found herself laughing just the same, and feeling just as good as she knew Dick felt.  
  
Neither teen noticed Alfred standing just outside the open barn doors, a tray with two glasses of lemonade on it. He just watched the two silently as they talked, a smile on his lips. He was glad to see the two had made up, and that Dick was finally interacting -period. He didn't want to disturb the two, and he turned and quietly left, heading back towards the house. He entered the kitchen, where only Bruce was present, sitting at the table, taking care of some personal paperwork.  
  
"I take it the Kents have decided to tend to other matters," Alfred replied. He eyed the businessman's papers. "As have you, Master Bruce."  
  
"Well, it's not like I can just go start investigating right now, Alfred," Bruce replied, not looking up. "Batman works at night, and Bruce Wayne is not ready to make his presence known in Smallville just yet." He sighed. "Besides, I need to get this stuff out of the way before I forget. It is important, Alfred."  
  
"So is the well-being of Master Dick," Alfred replied.  
  
"How is he?" Bruce asked distractedly.  
  
"He's hanging around with Miss Linda in the barn," Alfred answered.  
  
"I take it they're getting along now?"  
  
"Quite well," Alfred said. "In fact, they were having such a good time that Master Dick felt it necessary to laugh."   
  
Bruce stopped writing on the forms, his pen just above the papers. He slowly looked over at his older friend. "Dick . . . laughed?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Alfred replied. "Quite loud and long, I might add."  
  
Bruce was speechless as Alfred turned and walked towards the kitchen. The room was silent, save for the sound of Alfred pouring the lemonade back into the pitcher, and putting the pitcher back into the refrigerator. Then he put the tray in its proper place in one of the cabinets and rinsed out the glasses, placing them on the dish rack to dry. Then he headed towards the hallway, but he paused just before exiting the kitchen.  
  
"Master Bruce, with all due respect, it is good that Master Dick has started to reacclimate himself into his life, but don't you think that you - someone who's been responsible for him for the past six months - should have been the one to make him laugh instead of someone he just met?" He didn't wait for an answer as he headed into the hallway, leaving Bruce stunned at the table.  
  
- - - -  
  
The only sound in the barn came from the creaking rafters as Dick and Linda continued to swing back and forth. It wasn't that they didn't want to talk to each other; they just wanted to hang out and be lost in the silence. Linda had her eyes closed, and she tried to picture herself flying like a bird in the sky, free as anything, when there was a flash behind her eyelids, and a clear image of the insignia on the jackets of her attackers appeared. Startled, the young girl's eyes flew open, and she lost concentration of her telekinesis. The rope couldn't hold up her dense molecular structure on its own, and it snapped, sending the girl into a free fall.  
  
"Linda!" Dick shouted as he watched in horror, the awful memories of his parents' deaths flashing through his mind. He tried to catch her, but she was just out of his reach, her fingertips brushing his as she fell. The young man started struggling with his rope, untying it, knowing had to do something to save her. He tried to get a good grip on the rope, but his hands slipped, and he started falling himself. He tensed, closing his eyes, waiting for the hard impact, but it never came; his freefall stopped suddenly, and the young man opened his eyes. He was ten feet above the ground, looking straight down at Linda. She was laying on her back, her right hand out in front of her. She was gasping for air, but otherwise she looked unharmed, but that didn't mean she wasn't injured. After a few moments Dick slowly descending until his feet were touching the ground. The young teen hurried over and knelt beside the girl as she slowly sat up.  
  
"Are you okay?" Linda asked.  
  
"I wasn't the one who hit the ground," Dick replied. He discreetly started looking her over. "What about you?"  
  
"A little stunned, but fine," Linda replied as she got to her feet. She brushed the sod and dirt from her clothes.  
  
"What happened?" Dick asked.  
  
Linda shrugged as she rubbed her head. "I had a mental flash of the symbol that was on the jackets of the people who attacked me."  
  
"Don't you think you should tell your cousin?" Dick asked.  
  
Linda shook her head. "Wouldn't do any good," Linda answered. "He'd have to go to Metropolis to do anything with it." Dick gave her a confused look. "His computer's there."  
  
"Can't he just use yours?" Dick asked.  
  
Linda snorted. "No, because he messed it up the last time he used it." She shook her head. "He can't really use a computer to save his life. That's why they have Chloe."   
  
"What about . . . .?" Dick trailed off uneasily.  
  
"Bruce?" Linda asked. Dick nodded slowly. "What good would he do? He's grumpy all the time. Besides, he doesn't know this place. Not even Clark knows the area that well anymore."  
  
"You have a theory."  
  
Linda shrugged. "They were high schoolers, not adults, Dick. The adults wouldn't know anything about that; we'd just be wasting their time."  
  
"So, you want to find out who did this on your own?" Dick asked.  
  
"Of course not," Linda replied. "You're going to help me . . . well, help us."  
  
"Us?" Dick's eyes bulged.  
  
"Yeah, me and Wally and Cutter," Linda replied. "They run the school newspaper, and they're really good about researching stuff. If they can't find out who the symbol belongs to, then no one can."  
  
"What symbol?" Dick asked.  
  
Linda smiled and grabbed Dick's wrist. She led him up the stairs to the loft, where she grabbed a piece of paper and a pencil off her desk. Her speed was not up to par, but she still finished within a couple minutes. She grinned and held up the paper for Dick to see. "That symbol." There was a perfect rendering of the female symbol and lightning bolts sketched on the pad.  
  
(End of Chapter 8) 


	9. Chapter 9

- - - -  
  
An hour later Dick and Linda were still in the loft. Bruce occupied the den, reluctantly starting his investigation into who attacked Linda, Alfred sat on the couch in the living room, folding Bruce's laundry, and Martha, Jonathan, and Clark sat at the kitchen table, reading their newspapers and drinking coffee. All was silent for a time, then there was a knock on the door. The three Kents looked at each other, confused. They weren't expecting anyone.  
  
"I'll get it," Jonathan said, rising to his feet.  
  
"Allow me, Mister Kent," Alfred said, hurrying into the kitchen and over to the door. He opened the door as Jonathan slowly sat down. Perry stood on the other side dressed in casual tan slacks, a green polo shirt, and loafers. He held a bouquet of deep purple astras in his left hand and his car keys in his other hand. "May I help you, sir?"  
  
Perry was a little confused as he tilted his head. "When did the Kents get a butler?"  
  
"It's only temporary, Perry," Jonathan smiled as he got to his feet. "Come on in." Alfred stood to one side and let Perry in. "So, what brings you to Smallville?"  
  
"Well, actually, I'm here to see Clark," Perry replied.  
  
"Wow, it's not every day I get flowers from the boss," Clark grinned, eying the bouquet. He pretended to look hopeful. "Perry, does this mean . . . ? You really mean it? Oh, I can picture it now . . . pink rose petals on the aisle and on the cake, a beautiful arch, a unity candle . . . ."  
  
"Clark," Jonathan chided gently, smiling a bit. He loved his son, but now was not the time for snark.  
  
Perry chuckled. "Sorry to disappoint you, Clark, but these are actually for Linda, on behalf of the Daily Planet. How is she doing, by the way?"  
  
The kitchen door opened, and Dick and Linda walked into the house. They were both talking and laughing and obviously enjoying each other's company. The adults - minus Perry - were very surprised and pleased to see Dick opening up. The teens didn't noticed the adults right away, but after a few moments they did. They stopped short, looking shy. Dick slowly stood off to and slightly behind Linda. The young girl noticed Perry and smiled.  
  
"Mr. White," she said, grinning. She didn't know the man very well, but she still liked him a lot, so she walked over to him and hugged him around the torso.  
  
Perry just stood there, standing, not sure what to do. He had been told the young girl nearly drowned . . . and now she was hugging him, smiling and laughing as if nothing had happened. He looked confused as he glanced at the Kents. The Kents couldn't help but smile at seeing Linda being affectionate with the editor, but they weren't sure Perry felt the same way.   
  
"Sweetie," Jonathan said gently, "I'm not sure if Mr. White is in a hugging mood right now."  
  
Linda pulled away, looking apologetic. "Sorry," she replied.  
  
"Oh, no harm done," Perry said. "Just . . . not expecting it, that's all." He smiled warmly at the young girl and handed her the bouquet. "Linda, these are for you."  
  
"Oh, they're beautiful!" Linda said, wide-eyed as she took them. "Why are you giving them to me?"  
  
Perry had to remember that Linda's past had been a little more isolated than most, so she probably didn't know anything about getting flowers, which made the editor feel a twinge of sympathy for the young girl. "Well, they're for you, because I - er, uh, that is, the Daily Planet - felt you might like looking at something to make you feel better."  
  
Linda looked confused for a moment, but then she smiled. "Thank you," she replied softly.   
  
Perry just smiled back, then glanced at Dick. "So, uh, who's your friend?" he asked.  
  
"Oh, um, this is Dick Grayson," Linda replied.  
  
"Dick Grayson?" Perry asked. "The same one who was adopted by Bruce Wayne a few months ago?"  
  
"Yeah, that's me," Dick answered softly, shrugging.  
  
Perry eyed Alfred, who looked like he was ready to jump to Dick's aid if the young boy needed it. Well, that would explain the butler, he thought. "So, uh, does that mean Bruce Wayne is here?" He knew Clark and Bruce knew each other, but it still surprised him a bit.  
  
"Yeah, he's here on personal business," Clark replied. "And since we're friends, it saves on room and board for him." He glanced at his father, giving him a look. Jonathan nodded.  
  
"Um, Linda," Jonathan said, "why don't you and Dick go upstairs and let us adults talk for a while."  
  
Linda rolled her eyes, but she grabbed Dick's wrist. "Come on, Dick," she said. "Krypto and Streaky are probably upstairs hiding anyways. And Clark got me this cool game called Twister. Maybe we could play it." She led Dick upstairs, leaving the adults downstairs.  
  
It was a rare thing for Perry to be speechless, but in that moment he was. He tilted his head and opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't. He paused and tried to recollect his thoughts, but when he opened his mouth again, nothing came out. He finally decided to just shut up and let the others take control of the situation. He turned to the Kents and saw all three of them sharing a private smile with Alfred, causing the editor to feel even more confused.  
  
"Am I missing something here?" Perry asked slowly.  
  
"Master Dick has just been having some trouble adjusting after his parents were killed," Alfred answered. "It is a bit refreshing seeing him . . . more outgoing."  
  
Perry snorted, then he eyed Jonathan. "And you have no qualms about them being alone in Linda's bedroom?"  
  
Jonathan smiled. "Trust me, Perry," he replied, "nothing will ever happen between those two." He cleared his throat. "So, uh, you need to talk to Clark?"  
  
"Oh, uh, yeah," Perry said. He thought fast, trying to come up with a reason for his being in Smallville; he couldn't just come out and say he was concerned about Linda. He did have a reputation to think of. "Well, uh, I know you've been a little preoccupied lately, but I wanted to see how your gun smuggling story was coming along."  
  
"Uh, no offense, Chief," Clark said, "but couldn't you have just called me?"  
  
"Not since The Sun started showing interest in it," Perry replied. "Didn't want to take the chance of anyone stealing our exclusive."  
  
Clark nodded. He knew Perry was lying through his teeth, but he would humor his boss. A quick glance at his parents told him they were thinking the exact same thing. He had to fight hard not to smile. "Well, uh, the story's going really well. I'm trying to find Bobby to see if he knows anything." Bobby was his main source - and the best snitch in Metropolis; if Bobby didn't know anything, there wasn't anything to know.  
  
Perry nodded, trying to look serious. "Good." He smiled. "Well I, uh, I guess I need to get back to Metropolis." He nodded at everyone and headed towards the kitchen door, but he stopped when Bruce came walking in.   
  
The businessman stopped when he saw Perry. He knew who Perry was, and he set his features. "No comment."  
  
Perry fixed Bruce with a wry glance. "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Wayne." He nodded to the others again before heading out the kitchen door.  
  
"Master Bruce," Alfred said, "do I need to give you a refresher course on how to behave when there are guests present?"  
  
"That was the press."  
  
"That was our son's boss and a friend of our family, Bruce," Jonathan said. "And he was here, because he was concerned for Linda."  
  
Bruce looked away, feeling a twinge of guilt for upsetting the Kents. He would never admit to anyone how much he respected them, or how much they reminded him of his own parents . . . or how much he envied Clark. He would rather die first than admit those feelings.  
  
"Where's Dick?" Bruce asked, changing the subject.  
  
"Probably upstairs playing Twister with Miss Linda," Alfred replied. He eyed Bruce. "It would appear that Master Dick is enjoying himself." He raised an eyebrow. "It's such a shame that it's not with you, don't you think, Master Bruce?" Bruce's eyes narrowed as he turned around and marched down the hall to the den. The others watched him leave, and Alfred sighed softly. "I must apologize for Master Bruce's behavior."  
  
"It's not your fault, Alfred," Jonathan replied. He knew how Bruce could be when he got territorial, and he considered Dick part of his territory - even if the businessman had no idea how to behave around him. He also knew that Bruce didn't care too much for Linda or how she seemed - to Bruce - to be sticking her nose in where she didn't belong. Jonathan wasn't mad at Linda; he knew all she was doing was just being a friend to Dick. He sighed, frustrated, not knowing what to do.  
  
- - - -  
  
"Okay, right hand blue," Linda said. The Twister board was spread out on the floor of her bedroom, and both she and Dick were contorted on it, twisted up and around each other like a pretzel. Linda glanced at her friend and grinned; there was no way he'd be able to reach around her, find a blue dot, and stay upright. Dick took a breath and balanced on his feet and left hand, and twisted around Linda, reaching around her left leg and past her right hand, and he planted his right hand on a blue dot. He smiled when he saw her wincing.  
  
"Hey, I'm a former acrobat," Dick replied. "We had to learn how to twist and turn."  
  
Linda sighed and rolled her eyes before looking at her bed. Krypto and Streaky were sprawled out around the Twister spinner. The young girl smiled as she stared at the spinner. The plastic needle suddenly spun, as if flicked by an invisible finger. Linda grinned; her telekinetic abilities came in handy at times. Streaky glanced over at the plastic needle and reached over, pawing at it. Linda laughed. "Streaky, leave it alone!" Streaky rolled on her back and meowed. "Oh, you think you're so cute, huh?"  
  
"Can you understand them?" Dick asked, keeping his balance. "Animals, I mean."  
  
"Not really," Linda replied. "I can feel their emotions, but I can't really 'talk' with them. Not like how I can communicate telepathically with Clark."  
  
"Huh," Dick said. "Cool."  
  
The bedroom door suddenly opened. Both teenagers looked over and saw Bruce standing in the doorway. He looked extremely upset as he glanced down at Linda and Dick. Both of them were so startled that they tumbled down into a heap. Krypto and Streaky both jumped from their spots on the bed and scrambled under it, only their tails sticking out.  
  
"I heard a rumor that you laughed today," Bruce said to Dick. "Is that true?"  
  
"Uh . . ." Dick said slowly, paling.  
  
"Don't you ever knock?" Linda asked as she got to her feet, frowning.  
  
"Stay out of this," Bruce glanced at her briefly before looking back at his ward. "Dick, I asked you a question."  
  
"Leave him alone," Linda said, standing in front of her friend, narrowing his eyes.  
  
"I'm warning you, Linda," Bruce glared at the young girl. "Do not cross my path."  
  
"And don't cross mine," Linda said. Her eyes flashing fiery orange for a split second before two heat beams shot out, heading right for Bruce. At the last second, they diverged, hitting the frame on either side of the businessman. The scorched areas were roughly the size of silver dollars; nothing really intense, but Linda looked startled. It only lasted a second, before she glared once again at Bruce.  
  
Dick was wide-eyed as he slowly got to his feet and backed away into the far corner of the room, not sure who he should be more afraid of: the increasingly seething Bruce, or fiery little Linda. He was tempted to dive under the bed and join the pets, but he didn't want to make any sudden moves, so he just stayed put.  
  
"You want to be all grumpy and mean," Linda continued, "then you can leave my room this instant."  
  
Bruce crossed his arms, undaunted by her threats - fiery or verbal. "Oh, really?" he said.  
  
"You know," Linda said, her voice low and calm, "you're more likely to get a response if you're a little nicer."  
  
"Then you can tell the criminals I deal with that," Bruce retorted, "because the only thing that's worked with them so far is sheer brute force."  
  
"Look," Linda said, "I don't know what you do, and frankly I don't care, but Dick is not a criminal. You have done nothing but make him scared of you - and it doesn't take a telepath to realize that." Bruce's eyes narrowed, his hackles up. Linda could see it, but she wasn't finished. "You want to continue being this grumpy, mean guy who has nothing better to do than snark at everyone, then fine. The only thing you'll have to look forward to is someone who fears your every move, who will repress so much anger, hatred, and resentment towards you that it will eventually boil over. And when that happens, then God have mercy on your soul, because He'll be the only one who will." She narrowed her eyes. "Now, get out of my room."  
  
(End of Chapter 9) 


	10. Chapter 10

- - - -  
  
"Hey! What is going on here?"  
  
The room became deathly quiet after the loud voice resonated through the room. The trio slowly turned their heads toward the door - and saw Jonathan glaring angrily into the room. Martha, Clark, and Alfred were behind him, and they all looked very upset at what they were seeing, but Jonathan was mad. He glanced at the scorched marks on the door frame and then looked at Linda.  
  
"Linda, did you cause these?" he asked.  
  
Linda shrank a bit. "It was an accident," she said. "I didn't mean to. Honest."  
  
Jonathan glanced at Bruce, trying to gauge the younger man's expression, but it was masked behind a layer of aloofness. He looked back at his daughter, and her expression had reset from apologetic to anger and resentment as she stared right at Bruce. He could see Dick in the corner, almost cowering, and Jonathan sighed and closed his eyes, silently counting to ten.  
  
"What happened?" he asked through his teeth.  
  
"He came barging in here," Linda said, pointing to Bruce, "acting all mean, and scaring Dick with his demands."  
  
"And so you turn your heat vision on him?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"I said it was an accident!" Linda protested.  
  
"I'm out of here," Bruce replied. He brushed past everyone and walked down the hall, heading down the stairs.  
  
"Good riddance," Linda muttered.  
  
"Young lady, now would be a good time for you to be quiet," Jonathan replied.  
  
Linda stared wide-eyed at her father in disbelief. "But Daddy, I -"  
  
"Linda, quiet," Jonathan interrupted. Linda fell silent. "Now, Clark, go after Bruce." Clark nodded and hurried after his friend. "Alfred, would you please take Dick from the room?"  
  
"Come, Master Dick," Alfred said, holding out a hand. Dick hesitated, but he slowly walked over. Alfred put an arm around Dick's shoulders and steered him out of the room.  
  
Jonathan looked back at Linda. She was cowering slightly as she stood silently, and the farmer felt bad for her, but he was not going to excuse her behavior. He didn't like Bruce's attitude sometimes, but he was a guest in their house, and Linda was going to learn to respect that.  
  
"Alright, young lady," he said as he and Martha walked in. Martha shut the door behind her. "I think it's about time we had a nice long talk about how to treat guests in this house."  
  
- - - -  
  
Bruce rested his elbows on the porch railing, staring into the distance. He was furious. No one had the right to get in his face, especially some teeny blonde girl. He knew he shouldn't let her get under skin, but it was too late. She had invaded his territory, and he was seriously pd off.  
  
"We need to talk."  
  
Bruce didn't have to turn around. "Not now, Kent."  
  
Clark frowned as he walked over to Bruce and grabbed his arm, turning the older man to face him. "We're going to talk now, Bruce. No, I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen."   
  
Bruce jerked his arm free of Clark's grip. "You're a piece of work."  
  
"Why do you hate her so much?" Clark retorted. "What did she do to you to make you hate her?" Bruce didn't answer as he stared out at the barn. Clark only had to read his friend's face. "You're mad because she made Dick laugh."  
  
"I'm not petty, Clark," Bruce replied.  
  
"No, but you are territorial," Clark said. "That's why you barged in the way you did. You were mad at her because she did something after knowing him for less than a day that you couldn't accomplish in the six months you've had him under your care." Bruce snorted. "But we'll get to that in a moment. First of all, we're going to talk about how stupid you are."  
  
"Excuse me?" Bruce turned to face Clark.  
  
"You should have figured it out after this morning that Linda doesn't like people sneaking up on her," Clark replied. "And then you go and barge into her room? What were you thinking?" Bruce didn't answer. "Secondly, you can't go around being mad at her for being her."  
  
"Why, because I might hurt her feelings?" Bruce asked. "Sorry, Kent, but I'm not going to walk on eggshells to keep your cousin from crying because she has issues."  
  
Clark narrowed his eyes. "You have no idea what she's been through, Bruce, so cut the sanctimonious attitude."  
  
"I'm being realistic, Clark. The real world won't care about any bad childhood experiences she might have had."  
  
"This isn't the real world," Clark said. "This is her home, a place where she is supposed to feel safe."  
  
Bruce rolled his eyes. "So, what happened to her that was supposedly so bad?" Not that he cared; he just wanted to know what crap he was going to have to put up with.  
  
Clark folded his arms. "Well, let's see . . . she spent the first fifteen years of her life being used as a personal punching bag for her father, while her mother stood back and basically enabled him. And every day, she was told how stupid and worthless she was, and that it would have been better off for everyone if she was dead." He couldn't tell if what he was saying was having any impact on the businessman; if it was, Bruce was hiding it well. "You know, you should consider yourself lucky, Bruce - at least your biological parents loved you." He knew that last remark had an effect on his friend - he saw Bruce grip the railing so hard his knuckles turned white. But Clark wasn't finished yet.  
  
"You were also lucky enough to have Alfred in your life," he continued. "Linda had someone too, his name was Rok-Var, but he couldn't stop the beatings or the psychological abuse. He was finally able to get her out of that hell, and it only cost him his life, and that's something she's still blaming herself for. And if that wasn't enough, her father - who murdered Rok-Var - followed her to earth and put her through that torture all over again. Linda had to kill him in order to stop him. So, yeah, she has issues that we're still trying to work through."  
  
"So, what, I'm supposed to feel sorry for her?"  
  
"No. You're supposed to treat her like a person, like she's valuable and deserves basic respect, but you obviously can't handle that, even with one scared teenage boy or, you know, me. So I guess we're just gonna have to work around your issues, aren't we?" Bruce didn't say anything, so Clark shook his head and took a deep breath, softening his tone.  
  
"Look," he continued, "you're still welcome to stay and help in the investigation - if you want. And we'll talk to Linda about her behavior towards you, but you have to make an effort, Bruce. You can't hate her for how she acts or what she says or anything, because that's who she is. She doesn't always have tact - she's learning - and she is not trying to get between you and Dick; she just sees him as a friend - a friend who needs protecting, that's it."  
  
Clark waited for a response, but he didn't get any. He sighed and turned away, heading for the kitchen door. He stopped when he reached it. "And just a reminder, Bruce: Linda is my baby cousin . . . I will defend her if I feel she's in danger - even from you." He opened the door and walked in, leaving Bruce alone on the porch.  
  
- - - -  
  
Dick sat on the living room couch, curled up into a small ball. Alfred sat next to the boy, an arm around his shoulders.  
  
"It's all my fault," Dick whispered, trying not to cry as he stared straight ahead.  
  
"Now, Master Dick, you don't mean that," Alfred said.  
  
"I do!" Dick replied, tears filling his eyes. "They were fighting over me!"  
  
"No they weren't," Alfred said. "Those two were having a battle of wits and using you as an excuse for their behavior." There was silence for a long time.  
  
"Do you think they're going to always hate each other?" Dick asked.  
  
Alfred answered, "I don't know, Master Dick, but I do know this. They both do care about you." He squeezed Dick's shoulder gently.  
  
- - - -  
  
Jonathan had his left hand on his hip. His right hand was planted on the doorframe high above his head. He leaned on it. His right knee was bent, and most of his weight was on his left leg. He looked at the young girl sitting on the bed, her head hung low. Martha sat next to her, and she was visibly upset as well, but Jonathan was beyond upset. He was angry, but he reminded himself to not blow up at his daughter.  
  
"Young lady," he said, his voice low with edge, "you want to tell me why I shouldn't take you over my knee and tan your backside right now?"  
  
"You're going to hit me?" Linda asked quietly. She had no idea what spanking was, but she knew what tanning something meant. She had seen her father tan cow hides in the barn. It involved hitting the skin - hard - with a tool. She tried to be brave, but tears welled up in her eyes and fell down her cheeks as she looked up. "Daddy, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! Honest! It was an accident! Please don't hit me! I'll be nice to Bruce! I promise!"  
  
Jonathan closed his eyes, sighed, and took a couple of slow deep breaths, composing himself. He was still angry with Linda, but he made himself appear much less dangerous. He left the doorframe and walked over as Martha put an arm around the young girl. He sat beside her. He was a little upset that Linda cowered away from him towards Martha, but he wasn't going to let that deter him from dealing with her.  
  
"Linda," he said, his voice soft but firm, "I'm not going to hit you."  
  
"Yes you are," Linda replied, he voice muffled as she buried her head in Martha's side. "You said you were going to tan me."  
  
Jonathan looked over Linda's head at his wife. They both shared the same expression: they were going to have to work with Linda when it came talking about spanking. Jonathan reached out and touched Linda's back. She flinched a bit, but she didn't move. The farmer started gently rubbing the small of her back in a circle, and within a few moments, Linda had visibly relaxed.  
  
"Now," he said, "I said I'm not going to hit you."  
  
"But you wanted to tan my backside," Linda whispered. "You said so."  
  
"Yes, I did," Jonathan said. "That means I wanted to spank you."  
  
"Spank?" Linda asked, looking over at her father.  
  
"Yes, it means -"  
  
"Jonathan, maybe it would be a good idea to have that discussion at another time," Martha interrupted gently.  
  
Jonathan nodded. "Linda, we need to talk about you and Bruce."  
  
"I don't like him," Linda replied with a slight pout.  
  
"I think you've made that quite obvious," Martha replied wryly. "And just so you know, you won't be getting any allowance until the doorframe is repaired. Is that clear?"  
  
"But I'm saving up to buy some more charcoals," Linda protested.  
  
"You're just going to have to wait until the damage is repaired," Jonathan replied. "Now, about your behavior towards Bruce."  
  
"He's a jerk," Linda said, frowning. "He's so mean, and he likes using force to get his way."  
  
"Like Zor-El?" Martha asked.  
  
Linda looked at her mother, surprised. "No, I mean . . . well, a little . . . I guess." She sighed. "I just don't want Dick to go through what I went through."  
  
Jonathan sighed. "Linda, I know Bruce is not the nicest person, but he is not like Zor-El. He has a good heart."  
  
"Then why does he act so mean?" Linda asked. "Why doesn't he just be nice if he has a good heart?"  
  
"Maybe he doesn't know how," Martha answered. She smoothed some hair from Linda's face. "But regardless of how he behaves, he is still a guest in this house. And that means you need to respect that."  
  
"Even if he walks in without knocking?"  
  
"Oh, don't worry, we'll talk to him about his manners and attitude," Jonathan said. "He needs to follow the rules here just like everyone else." He paused. "Now, what to do with you?" He thought for a moment, then he looked back at Linda. "Okay, I think I've got the perfect punishment for you - and there is no room for discussion on this: you and Bruce are going to sit down and talk out your problems."  
  
But, Daddy, I -"  
  
"Linda, I said there is no room for discussion," Jonathan interrupted. "Now, you two don't have to like each other, but you will act civil towards each other. Is that clear?"  
  
Linda looked over at Martha, and she nodded. Linda sighed. "Yes, Daddy," she whispered.  
  
"And Linda?"  
  
"Yes, Daddy?"  
  
Jonathan reached over, gently grabbed Linda's shoulders, and pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her. "We still love you."  
  
Linda hugged her father. "I love you too, Daddy." She rested her head against her father's chest. She felt Martha hug her from behind, and the young woman smiled as she closed her eyes.  
  
- - - -  
  
Alfred had finally calmed Dick down enough to where the young boy was sound asleep in the den. The butler was now with Clark, and both of them were sitting at the kitchen table. Alfred had made some tea, and the two were sipping from mugs.  
  
"So, what are we going to do with them?" Clark asked. "I'm not defending Linda's behavior, but Bruce is just being . . . ."  
  
"Difficult?" Alfred suggested.  
  
"That's putting it lightly," Clark replied wryly, "but yeah." He sighed. "So, what do we do?"  
  
"We get them to talk." The two looked over as Jonathan, Martha, and Linda came walking down the stairs. Clark noticed Linda looking subdued, and he was tempted to ask how she was, but he'd wait until later.  
  
"And how do we do that?" Clark asked.  
  
"Well, Linda's already agreed to sit down and talk with Bruce," Martha replied.  
  
["Agreed" isn't quite the term I would use,] Linda said telepathically.  
  
Having heard what his cousin 'said,' Clark had to bite his lower lip to keep from smiling. "And Bruce?" he asked.  
  
"I'll handle Master Bruce," Alfred replied, getting to his feet. He calmly walked to the kitchen door and opened it, walking out. The butler closed his door behind him. Clark was tempted to use his X-ray or super hearing, but he didn't. All was silent, save for the muffled voice - everyone knew it belonged to Bruce by the slowly rising decibels. Then there was silence for a few moments, then the door slammed open, and a very peeved-looking Bruce stomped in, followed by a calm Alfred.  
  
"Okay, now that both of you are here," Jonathan said, "this is how it's going to go down. You two are going to sit at this table and not get up until you are acting civil towards each other." Linda knew better than to cross her dad and protest, so she remained silent as she walked over and sat down. Jonathan frowned at Bruce. "Bruce, you too."  
  
Bruce almost sneered, but he turned to see Alfred glaring at him. "Fine," he said. The businessman walked over to the other end of the table, opposite Linda. He plopped himself down with a loud sigh. "Okay, I'm here."   
  
"Good," Jonathan said. "Now, while we're out taking care of some errands, you two are going to not move from those seats until you have talked things out and are not ready to kill each other at the drop of a hat."  
  
Clark raised his eyebrows as he got to his feet and walked over to his dad. "Uh, Dad, you think it's smart to leave them here - alone?"  
  
"Oh, they'll be perfectly fine, Clark," Martha replied.  
  
"How do you know?" Clark asked.  
  
"Because if they don't behave," Martha replied, "we will make sure the consequences are very . . . unpleasant." She looked at her daughter. "Do we make ourselves clear, Linda?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Linda said softly.  
  
"Bruce?"  
  
"Perfectly," Bruce replied curtly.  
  
"Good," Martha said. She grabbed her purse from the island. "Now, we'll be back in a few hours." The three headed out the kitchen door, Clark glancing back reluctantly, while Alfred went to check on Dick. He was still sleeping, and the butler smiled as he walked back to the kitchen. He stopped at the table.  
  
"And if I find out that either of you has awakened Master Dick," he said calmly, "invulnerable or not, adult or not, I will take you over my knee and make sure that you are unable to sit comfortably for a week." He nodded. "Goodbye." He left the kitchen, heading out the door to catch up with the Kents.  
  
Both Linda and Bruce stared at the closed door in shock at what Alfred had just said to them. But it only lasted a few seconds. They turned back to look at each other, and their shocked expressions disappeared, replaced by set features and narrowed eyes, eyes that stared right at each other.  
  
(End of Chapter 10) 


	11. Chapter 11

- - - -  
  
"So," Linda said after a few moments.  
  
"So?" Bruce asked.  
  
"So, talk."  
  
"Why should I talk?"  
  
"Because you're the one being the jerk, barging in and everything.."  
  
"At least I don't try to fry people when I'm angry at them."  
  
Linda narrowed her eyes. "No, then there'd be no one left on this rock - you're only happy when you're in a snit about something."  
  
"Prove it."  
  
"I'm a telepath . . . I can read your thoughts if I wanted to."  
  
Bruce stood up, leaning forward, his knuckles resting on the table. "You wouldn't dare."  
  
Linda got up, assuming a similar position, her nose only inches from Bruce's. "Try me." There were a few moments of silence, then she leaned forward and kissed his nose before returning to a seating position. She glanced up and saw that he was frozen in shock.  
  
"What . . . was . . . that?" Bruce asked.  
  
"A kiss," Linda replied. She gave him a small smile. "Mom and Dad were right. You do have a good heart, Bruce."  
  
Bruce tried to shake it off as he sat down, but it was hard. "You scanned my mind."  
  
Linda shrugged. "You've got a lot of anger and hate in you, Bruce. Why?"  
  
"Because my parents were murdered in front of me when I was eight," Bruce spit out before he could catch himself. He growled for allowing himself to be vulnerable like that, but he stared at the young girl . . . and he suddenly couldn't be mad at her anymore. Not that he would let it show right away. He did have a reputation, after all. "Course, I don't expect you to understand that."  
  
"I understand what it's like to live in darkness all your life," Linda replied. "To think you're going to be trapped in it all your life, and that it's going to consume you."   
  
She paused, titling her head. "You weren't in the dark all your life, Bruce. Your parents loved you - a lot."  
  
Bruce sighed. "Will you stop doing that?"  
  
"Will you open up to me?"  
  
"Why should I?"  
  
"Because I want to know why someone with a good heart feels he has to hide it from everyone . . . especially those who love him."  
  
"I barely know you, kid."  
  
"I meant Dick."  
  
Bruce stopped short and just stared at the young girl. She was serious. But he couldn't be. Dick wouldn't - couldn't - love him. Not after the hell Bruce had put him through.  
  
"But he does," Linda replied. "And I know you love him too; you're just scared to show it." She shrugged. "I just don't know why." She sighed. "I mean, if you lived in Argo City, I could understand it a little better; emotions were considered weak, especially by my father."  
  
"Who is the lowest form of life in the known universe," Bruce muttered. He saw Linda raise an eyebrow at him. "Hey, I'm not a saint, but I don't condone anyone hitting anyone else just for spite - especially parents with their own children. It's sickening."  
  
"How did you know about my father?" Linda asked.  
  
"Clark told me," Bruce replied. "After he ripped me a new one."  
  
"A new one what?" Linda asked.  
  
Bruce chuckled and shook his head. "Forget it." He took a deep breath. "So, now what?"  
  
Linda paused. "So, why do you do what you do?"  
  
"You mean my business?"  
  
Linda shook her head. "I mean Batman."  
  
Bruce rolled his eyes. "You like asking the tough questions, don't you?"  
  
Linda shrugged. "I'm kinda new around here."  
  
"Point taken." Bruce sighed. He didn't really feel like running through everything, so he summed it up. Linda listened with fascination and curiosity. When Bruce finished, Linda furrowed her eyebrows, and Bruce noticed. "What?"  
  
"So, you do it for revenge?" she asked.  
  
"I do it, because Gotham needs someone to clean up the scum that's polluting the city," Bruce retorted.   
  
"By why like that?" Isn't there a way to stop them without using fear or brute force?"  
  
"Not in Gotham, Linda. The criminals I deal with don't respond to reason." He gave her a knowing look. "Just like your father was, I imagine."  
  
Linda looked away, uncomfortable by the subject. "I didn't mean to kill him."  
  
"I believe you," Bruce replied, "but he didn't respond to reason, did he?"  
  
Linda shook her head, then she looked at Bruce. "Have you ever killed anyone?"  
  
"Does it matter?"  
  
"Yes," Linda replied. "I need to know."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because I want to know."  
  
Bruce sighed. He was tempted to lie to her, but he knew she could read minds, so it would be pointless. "Yes, I have killed people before." He saw her alarmed expression. "But I only did it when it was absolutely necessary - when innocent people were in danger and there was no other alternative." Linda's expression didn't change. "Linda, you can hate me for that, but I -"  
  
"I don't hate you," Linda interrupted. She shrugged. "I just don't want to see you succumb to the darkness." She glanced at him. "So, um . . . where does that leave us now?"  
  
"Well," Bruce replied slowly, "I think we can safely say we're not ready to kill each other any more."  
  
"So, you like me?" Linda asked, hopefully. "You don't hate me?"  
  
Bruce eyed her wryly. "No, I don't hate you."  
  
Linda grinned and got up from her spot. She blurred over and threw herself at Bruce before he even knew what was going on, hugging him around his torso. Bruce froze, eyes wide, as the young girl hugged him. He didn't know what to do, and before he could figure out anything Linda looked up at him with a big smile on her face, her eyes dancing with happiness.  
  
"I'm so glad you don't hate me," Linda replied. "That means we're friends."  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Bruce said, extracting himself from Linda's grip. "Um, for future reference, let's keep the hugging to a minimum, okay?"  
  
"Okay," Linda replied. She watched Bruce go to the kitchen to get a drink. "Um, Bruce, can I ask you for a favor?"  
  
"What?" Bruce asked, pulling the fridge door open and pulling out a Coke can. He opened the can and started drinking as he shut the door with his foot.  
  
"Can you not tell Mom or Dad or Clark that I scanned your mind?" Linda asked. "I'm not really supposed to."  
  
Bruce nearly spit out his soda. He stared at the young girl in shock, then a smirk grew across his face. "Really?"  
  
"You won't tell, will you?" Linda's eyes grew with worry. "Please?"  
  
Bruce had to hide a smile, reveling in seeing her squirm a bit. He took a deep breath. "I'll make you a deal: I won't tell if you do something for me."  
  
Linda hesitated, but after a few moments she slowly nodded. "Okay. Um, what do I have to do?"  
  
Bruce's expression changed as he realized a new advantage had just presented itself to him, his for the exploring and the taking whenever he wanted. His features settled into something that was not quite a grin, not quite a smirk, but a shadowy cousin of both, as he held his soda a couple of inches from his lips. One perfectly shaped eyebrow flicked up and down once, and Linda began to feel distinctly uncomfortable just as he intoned, "For now, let's just say... you owe me."  
  
- - - -  
  
Dick yawned and stretched, feeling rested. He was a little fuzzy-headed as he stood up, but it didn't take him long to remember what had transpired before his nap. He fully opened his eyes and looked around cautiously. The house was quiet - he couldn't hear a single sound. The young boy slowly got up from his cot and stretched again, then he carefully ventured into the hall. He looked into the living room; there was no one there. He heard small, indistinguishable sounds coming from the kitchen, and he slowly made his way down the hall and poked his head into the kitchen. His eyes widened at what he saw.  
  
Bruce was sitting at the table, his back towards Dick, but the young boy could see he was working on something. What was more interesting was Linda. She was sitting at the kitchen island, her elbow resting - and about twenty different kitchen utensils were floating above her in an odd formation. She looked over and saw Dick standing in the frame of the hall, and she smiled.  
  
"Hi," she said. Bruce looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Dick. The ward shrank a little. Linda glanced at Bruce, trying to figure out who was going to do what. Bruce met her eyes briefly, and he nodded. He took a deep breath.  
  
"Dick," he said softly, "could you please come over and sit at the table?"  
  
Dick looked a little scared, but he slowly made his way over to the table and took a chair opposite Bruce. He shrunk down, not looking up. Bruce looked over at Linda, and the young girl hopped from her stool as the utensils floated back into the container on the island and walked over, sitting in her usual spot at the table. She stared at Bruce until he sighed.  
  
"Fine," he replied. He paused and took a deep breath. "Uh, Dick, we're . . . ."  
  
"We're sorry," Linda spoke up. "What we did was wrong. I mean, with us arguing about you and all . . . ."  
  
"It's okay," Dick replied.  
  
"No, it's not," Linda said. "I mean, I thought I was protecting you from Bruce, because he was acting all mean and grumpy, when the truth is he has no idea how to show affection. I can relate to that."  
  
Bruce narrowed his eyes at the young girl. "And I thought I was protecting you from . . . from . . . ."  
  
"He thought I was trying to take you away from him," Linda replied.  
  
Bruce sighed and rolled his eyes. "Thank you so much, Linda."  
  
"You're welcome, Bruce," Linda smiled. She turned to Dick, looking a little sheepish. "So, are we forgiven?"  
  
Dick glanced back and forth between Linda and Bruce. Part of him was relieved they weren't fighting anymore, especially about him, but another part of him was frightened by their behavior - and by what Linda had told him. He slowly nodded. "Uh, sure," he replied slowly. "I guess."  
  
"Great!" Linda replied, getting up from her spot. "Well, I'm going to leave you two to talk, because I think you two really need to do that."  
  
"Where are you going?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Outside," Linda answered. She looked up the stairs. "Kyrpto! Streaky! Let's go outside for a while." A few moments passed, and the two pets ran down the stairs.  
  
"Don't stray too far from the house," Bruce warned.  
  
"Why not?" Linda asked as she headed toward the door.  
  
"Because, you're dead," Bruce replied. "And we don't want to take the chance of your attackers seeing you alive."  
  
"I'll stay near the house," Linda said as she headed out with the pets, closing the door behind her.  
  
Bruce shook his head, then he looked across the table at Dick. Both just sat in uncomfortable silence, trying to figure out what to do next.  
  
(End of Chapter 11) 


	12. Chapter 12

- - - -  
  
Linda leaned against the porch rail as Krypto and Streaky lay sprawled on the swing. The breeze had a chill to it, and Linda could feel it, but it didn't quite have the bite to it that she remembered coldness having when she was vulnerable. Before it would bother her, but now it felt so natural. She smiled and closed her eyes, sighing. She had gotten Bruce to like her. Aside from nearly dying, all was right with the world.  
  
Krypto and Streaky's ears perked when they heard the sound of an approaching vehicle, and they both got to their feet, warning Linda with a soft bark and meow, respectively. Linda opened her eyes and saw a sporty green VW convertible, with the top up, heading towards the fence. Linda didn't recognize the car as she straightened up, and walked over to the top of the stairs. She saw a brunette girl about her age step out, dressed in a soft blue wool sweater, a brown suede jacket over that, tight jeans, and ankle high black Italian boots. Her eyes were hidden behind a pair of sunglasses.  
  
"May I help you?" Linda asked as she stepped off the porch and headed down the walk to the scalloped fence. Krypto and Streaky jumped from their spots and hurried over, flanking Linda's sides.  
  
"I'm looking for Linda Kent," the girl said angrily. "You know where she is?"  
  
Linda frowned, confused. She had no idea why this girl was angry - and she appeared to be angry at her. "Who are you? And why are you so angry?"  
  
"Because I have a bone to pick with that slut," the girl replied. "She kissed my boyfriend."  
  
Linda was really confused. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what you think -"  
  
"My sister said she did," the girl interrupted. "So did my cousin. And as annoying as they are they wouldn't lie about that."  
  
Linda tried racking her brain. The last person she kissed was Jimmy, when she made his wounds feel better and then when she thanked him. Suddenly, her eyes went wide, and her mouth opened slightly as it clicked. "You're Lucy Lane," she said softly.  
  
"Yeah, what's it to you?" Lucy asked, crossing her arms. Linda shifted on her feet, looking uncomfortable. Lucy watched her for a few moments, then she took off her sunglasses, and Linda could see Lucy's eyes were narrowed. "Wait a second. You're her, aren't you? You're Linda." She didn't wait for a response as she got into Linda's face, towering over the blonde. "You little slut."  
  
Linda shrank. She had no idea what she had just been called; all she knew was that Lucy was mad at her. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to kiss him. I didn't know he was your boyfriend."  
  
"Yeah right," Lucy replied. "I've seen your type before: you think you can have any guy you want, and you don't care if they're taken or not." She looked down when she heard a loud hiss and growl. Streaky had puffed up and flattened her ears, and there was a growl rumbling deep in her throat. Krypto has his ears flattened and his lips were pulled back, revealing two rows of little sharp teeth. "What the hell is their problem?"  
  
"They don't like you," Linda answered. "I think it would be a good idea if you left."  
  
"Oooh, I'm so scared of a runty furball and a scrawny mutt," Lucy sneered. She lifted one foot and tried to kick Krypto. Normally, the dog would have cowered, but not at that moment - he was protecting his mistress. He growled and chomped down on the toe of the Italian boot, his teeth sinking through the leather, nicking Lucy's toes. The brunette shrieked and pulled her foot back as she supported herself on the fence. "You stupid mutt!" She shifted her weight and tried to kick him with her other foot, but Streaky jumped into action. The kitten swiped at Lucy's foot, claws extended, and shredded the side of the other boot. Lucy shrieked when she saw the damage to her boots.  
  
"Fifty bucks!" she shouted. "These cost me fifty bucks!" She glared at the animals. "You stupid animals!"  
  
"They're not stupid," Linda said, frowning as she stood at full height, ready to defend her pets if she had to. "You were the one trying to hurt them; they were just defending themselves."  
  
Lucy growled as she looked down at them. "I'm still going to rip them apart when I get my hands on them." She edged towards them, but Linda stood in her way. "Out of my way."  
  
"No," Linda replied. "You're not going to hurt them."  
  
"Get out of my way, you hussy, or you'll be sorry," Lucy said.  
  
"No," Linda replied again, standing as tall as she could.  
  
Lucy narrowed her eyes. "Fine. You're asking for it." She balled up her fist and swung her arm at Linda. Linda reflexively dodged the punch. "Stand still!" She swung again, but Linda ducked. "Stop moving, you dumb hick!"  
  
"Look, I'm sorry about kissing Jimmy," Linda replied, slowly backing away as Lucy edged towards her.  
  
"You're sorry, huh?" Lucy sneered. "You're all sorry, you know that? You and your entire family. I don't know what my sister sees in your stupid hick cousin, because he's a dumb as a bunch of rocks! I would say it's genetic, but he's adopted - probably because his real parents were idiots themselves, but that didn't change when he got here apparently."  
  
Linda stopped and frowned. "My cousin is not dumb!"  
  
"How would you know?" Lucy asked. "You're just as dumb as he is. And so are your hick parents, even though they're not really your parents. What, your real Mommy and Daddy got tired of you and dumped you on them?" Linda clenched her fists, but she kept her hands down at her sides. "You know what I think? I think you and your entire family should do everyone a favor and go to hell."  
  
Before Linda even knew what she was doing, one of her fists came up and hit Lucy square in the face. The brunette stumbled backwards and fell down onto the ground. Linda watched in horror as Lucy clutched her left eye, moaning loudly.  
  
"I'm sorry!" Linda said, kneeling beside the girl. She hadn't meant to hit her, honestly.  
  
"Get away from me!" Lucy shouted, trying not to cry.  
  
Linda felt awful as she slowly got to her feet. The sound of an approaching vehicle caught Linda's attention, and she looked over. Her stomach immediately turned when she recognized the blue truck coming up the gravel drive. The truck halted to a stop near Lucy's car, and Jonathan jumped out from the driver's side, while Alfred and Martha got out on the passenger's side. Clark was in the bed of the truck, and he jumped out. The four hurried over to the two girls.  
  
"What happened?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"She hit me!" Lucy shouted, pointing a finger at Linda.  
  
"Linda, is this true?" Martha asked.  
  
"It was an accident," Linda replied. "I didn't mean -"  
  
"Linda, get in the house," Jonathan interrupted, trying hard not to yell.  
  
"But, Dad, I -"  
  
"Linda. Get. In. The. House."  
  
Linda's eyes filled with tears as she slowly turned and slunk back towards the house, both Streaky and Krypto staying close to her. Clark watched her for a few moments, then he left the scene and jogged after her while the adults tended to Lucy.  
  
"Lucy, let me see your eye," Martha said gently, reaching for the young brunette's arm.  
  
"No," Lucy replied, jerking away from the trio. "I want to go home."  
  
"Miss," Alfred spoke up gently, "I would highly recommend that you stay here and let us examine your eye, just to make sure -"  
  
"I said I want to go home," Lucy interrupted as she got to her feet. She left the trio and marched towards her car. She opened her door, but she stopped and turned toward the trio. "You know, all I did was try to talk to her, and she goes all psycho." She got in her car, started the engine, and drove off, gravel scattering behind her.  
  
"Okay, what was that all about?" Martha asked.  
  
"I don't know," Jonathan replied angrily, "but I'm going to find out." He pivoted on one foot and marched up the walk, with Martha and Alfred close behind him. He slammed open the door and looked around. Bruce and Dick were standing near the island, but Jonathan was too angry to care about them. He looked into the living room and saw Linda sitting in the living room, curled on the couch, with Clark sitting on her left; Krypto and Streaky were on her right. He marched over to her and frowned down at her. "Alright, young lady," he said, talking through his teeth, "talk."  
  
"I'm . . . I'm sorry," Linda whispered, not even looking up.  
  
"Linda, what on Earth would possess you to hit someone?" Jonathan raised his voice. "Don't you realize how dangerous and stupid that was?"  
  
"But I -"  
  
"You could have seriously hurt Lucy," Jonathan continued, "or worse." He sighed, frustrated. "Did you even stop to think about that?"  
  
"Dad, maybe we should let her explain herself," Clark spoke up, his voice gentle. He was upset that Linda had hit someone, but he didn't think blowing up at her was the way to get any answers.  
  
"Explain herself?" Jonathan replied. "What possible reason could justify Linda hitting anyone?"  
  
"Because Lucy goaded her into doing it," a deep voice spoke up. Everyone turned as Bruce came into the living room, Dick behind him.  
  
Jonathan sighed. "Bruce, I would appreciate it if you stayed out of this."  
  
"I can't do that, Mr. Kent," Bruce replied. "Not when you're about to make a big mistake at Linda's expense." Everyone looked at Bruce, eyebrows raised in shock.  
  
"Well, I think it's safe to say that they've talked and made up," Alfred replied softly to Martha. Martha nodded her agreement.  
  
"And what is that supposed to mean?" Jonathan asked, still upset as he folded his arms and looked at the businessman.  
  
"I'm simply saying that you should look at the entire picture before passing judgment on your daughter," Bruce replied. "Dick and I both witnessed the entire altercation, and - granted Linda shouldn't have hit Lucy - not all the blame can be put on Linda's shoulders."  
  
"What happened?" Martha asked.  
  
"Lucy came driving up in her car," Bruce explained, "and Linda went to meet her, the pets with her. After a few seconds, Lucy got into Linda's face. I don't know what they said."  
  
"She got mad at me, because I kissed Jimmy," Linda replied quietly. "She called me a slut." She looked up, confused. "What does that mean?"  
  
"Oh, honey," Martha said, scooting the pets over and sitting beside her daughter, "don't worry about that right now." She glanced up at her husband, and she could see it was taking every fiber of his being not to blow up and go after Lucy himself (and possibly do more bodily harm to her), regardless of what Linda may have done wrong. Martha looked back at her daughter. "Why don't you tell us what happened?"  
  
"Am I allowed to?" Linda asked, slowly looking up at Jonathan.  
  
Jonathan softened considerably when he saw his daughter looking at him like she was scared of him; that was the last thing he ever wanted. He sighed as he walked over and sat on the edge of the coffee table, facing Linda. "Tell us what happened, Linda."  
  
Linda hesitated, but then she looked at Clark. He nodded slightly. The young girl took a deep breath. "Well, she was really mad at me, and I said I was sorry, but she was still mad at me, and then Krypto and Streaky started hissing and growling at her - they didn't like her. I told her that she should leave, and she wouldn't listen. She tried to kick Krypto, but he bit her boot. Then she tried kicking him with her other foot, but Streaky clawed her other boot up. Then she said she was going to rip them apart, and I blocked her from getting to them. Then she started trying to punch me."  
  
"Is that why you hit her?" Martha asked.  
  
Linda shook her head. "She called all of us dumb and told me we should all go to hell." She shrugged. "That's when I hit her." She looked up at her father, her eyes wide and full of fear, her face streaked with tears. "I'm sorry, Daddy! I didn't mean to hit her! Honest! I didn't even know I had hit her until she was on the ground!"  
  
Jonathan felt his heart aching as he reached out and cupped Linda's face in his hands. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. "Sweetie," he said softly, "I know you didn't mean to hit her."  
  
"Am I a bad girl?" Linda asked softly.  
  
"No," Jonathan replied quickly. "You are not a bad girl."  
  
"What about a slut?" Linda pressed. "Lucy said I was one. Am I?"  
  
"You are not a slut," Jonathan said firmly. "And I don't want you to ever think that, okay?" Linda nodded slowly as a tear slipped down her cheek. Jonathan sighed, knowing what he had to do. "Honey, I know you're sorry you hit Lucy. I'm sorry too."  
  
"For what?" Linda asked.  
  
"For getting mad at you," Jonathan replied. "I jumped to a conclusion without getting all the facts . . . and I got mad at you."  
  
"But I did a bad thing."  
  
"Yes, you did," Jonathan replied, "but I did a bad thing too. I had no right to lose my temper at you like that. Will you forgive me?"  
  
Linda looked confused. "But you don't do bad things. You're my daddy."  
  
Jonathan smiled a bit. "I know, but even daddies make mistakes."  
  
"Really?" Linda asked. Jonathan nodded. Linda paused to think for a moment, then she slowly reached over and hugged Jonathan. "I forgive you. Do you forgive me?"  
  
Jonathan nodded and kissed her forehead before hugging her back. "Of course," he whispered.  
  
Linda rested her head on her father's shoulders as he started rubbing her back. The farmer knew she was exhausted, emotionally, because it only took her a few moments to start relaxing. He glanced over at Clark, giving him a look. Clark nodded and carefully got to his feet, then he gathered his baby cousin in his arms. She snuggled against his chest as he headed out of the living room and carried her up the stairs. Krypto and Streaky jumped from their spots and hurried out after the two.  
  
Jonathan watched his kids disappear up the stairs before rubbing a hand tiredly across his face. He felt horrible for how he had acted towards Linda, scaring her the way he had. He felt like he was two inches tall. Martha saw how upset her husband felt, and she joined him on the coffee table, putting her arm around his shoulders and leaning against him.   
  
Alfred glanced at Bruce, giving the businessman a look. Bruce nodded and gently herded Dick out of the living room into the kitchen. The butler followed close behind, leaving the two Kents to their thoughts.   
  
(End of Chapter 12) 


	13. Chapter 13

- - - - 

Alfred was at the stove, preparing a kettle of water for tea. As the water headed up the butler turned to face Bruce and Dick. The two were seated at the table in silence. They looked almost uncomfortable with each other, and Alfred sighed inwardly. The kettle started whistling, and Alfred turned off the stove and removed the kettle. He poured water in to two cups sitting on a tray before putting the kettle back on the stove. He took two teabags and put them in the cups, letting the water seep through them while he gathered other items and put them on the tray: the small ceramic sugar bowl, two spoons, and a little ceramic pitcher filled with cream. When he finished, he removed the tea bags and put them aside on a paper towel near the sink. 

"Might I suggest you two interact while I take the Kents some tea?" he asked, staring right at Bruce. Bruce sighed and nodded. Alfred nodded one, smiling as he picked up the tray and headed into the living room. 

Bruce glanced at Dick, and the ward looked uneasily at the businessman. Bruce didn't know why it was so hard to deal with one teenage boy when it was so easy to deal with Gotham's criminals. He took a deep breath. "Dick," he said slowly," I'm . . . I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to do that," Dick said glumly. 

"No," Bruce said, "I do." He paused. "I was . . . I was wrong . . . for getting mad at you." He glanced at Dick, and it was like looking in a mirror. For a moment, Bruce was rendered speechless, but he knew what he had to do - even if it meant making himself vulnerable with his adopted son. Both Alfred and Linda had been right: Bruce needed to do something or he risked losing Dick before he would have a chance to know him. 

"Look," Bruce continued, "I'm going to be honest with you, Dick. I have spent most of my life living alone, so I never had to worry about anyone else but me. This is the first time I've ever had to worry about someone else . . . and I have no idea how to do this." He reached over and put an arm around Dick's shoulders. He was glad Dick didn't flinch or tense. "I know I can't replace your family, but I want to be a part of your life . . . if you'll let me." 

Dick was shocked. The man who had always hidden his true feelings from everyone was opening up to him. He didn't know what to say . . . it had been so long since anyone had offered him what he truly needed: a safe place to fall. Unable to speak, as tears filled his eyes, Dick leaned over and rested against Bruce's side, crying softly. 

Bruce was a little unsure about what to do, but after a few moments he leaned his head against Dick's as he squeezed the boy's shoulders, sighing softly. He knew a major bridge and just been crossed, but they still have a long way to go. 

- - - - 

Linda lay on her bed, curled on her side, and Clark sat beside her, rubbing her back. He could see she was exhausted, but she was trying to fight resting. Krypto and Streaky were curled up near her feet, resting their heads on her legs. 

"You want to talk?" Clark asked. 

"I'm a bad girl," Linda said softly. 

"No, you're not," Clark replied. "You are not a bad girl." 

"But I hit Lucy," Linda said. 

"I know," Clark replied, "and that was wrong, but it wasn't entirely your fault." 

"Bruce said she goated me into hitting her," Linda said, "but the goats were in their pens." 

Clark had to smile. "That's goaded, sweetie, not goated. And it's an expression. It means that Lucy basically provoked you into hitting her." 

Linda turned around. "Really?" 

Clark nodded. "Look at it this way: why would she drive all the way from Metropolis? She tried to kick Krypto, and then she tried to hit you." 

"But I said I was sorry for kissing Jimmy," Linda replied. 

"I know," Clark said. He paused. "I just want to know how she knew." 

"You think Jimmy told her?" Linda asked. 

"I doubt it," Clark answered. "He's not that kind of person." 

"What kind of person?" Linda asked. 

"A person who would do that stuff," Clark replied. 

"Then how did Lucy find out?" Linda asked. "Did you tell her?" 

"Now, why would you think that?" Clark asked. 

Linda shrugged. "I don't know . . . I just wish I knew how she found out." 

Clark nodded. "Me too." He sighed. "But we have other things to worry about." 

"Like what?" 

"Like Lois," Clark replied. 

"Is she going to hate me now?" Linda asked quietly. 

"I don't think so," Clark answered. "She might be upset, but she needs to know what happened - before Lucy gets back." 

"Why?" 

"Because Lucy . . . well, I don't know her that well, but from what Chloe tells me, Lucy likes to embellish stuff. You saw how she tried to put all the blame on you." 

Linda nodded. "Why would she do that?" 

Clark shrugged. "I don't know." He carefully kicked off his shoes and lay beside Linda, turning on his side to face her. "But for now, why don't you try to get some rest, okay?" 

"Are you staying with me?" Linda looked delighted as she saw her cousin shift. 

Clark smiled and kissed her forehead. "Of course." 

Linda smiled as she closed her eyes. Clark just watched her as she slowly drifted off to sleep, smiling sadly, wondering what was going to happen between him and Lois with this news concerning Lucy . . . and wondering just how Lucy found out in the first place. 

- - - - 

Linda woke up half an hour later to a soft voice. She opened her eyes and saw Clark sitting on her bed, his back to her, talking on Linda's phone. Krypto and Streaky were still at her feet. The young girl just listened as Clark talked for a few more moments, then he hung up. 

"Who was on the phone?" she asked, yawning. 

Clark turned around. "Hey, did I wake you?" 

Linda shook her head. "No, I just couldn't sleep anymore." 

Clark accepted that. "Well, that was Lois. I called her and told her what was going on." 

"Does she hate me now?" Linda asked, worried. 

"No, she doesn't hate you," Clark answered. "She's frustrated by what happened, but I told her what happened . . . including what Lucy called you . . . and Lois said she would talk to her when she gets back to Metropolis." 

"Is Lucy going to be in trouble?" Linda asked. 

"I think so, yeah," Clark replied. Linda looked upset. "But don't blame yourself. You were defending yourself, and the pets. Granted, you shouldn't have hit her, but don't beat yourself up over this, okay?" He was thankful he had taught Linda how to pull her punches . . . otherwise Lucy could have been seriously hurt - or worse. He helped Linda into a sitting position. "Come on, I think dinner might be ready soon. You hungry?" Linda nodded. "Come on, Short Stack, I'll give you a lift." 

Linda smiled and scooted over as Clark turned his back to her. She climbed on her cousin's back and wrapped her arms around his neck as he held her legs and headed out the room. He galloped down the stairs and stopped at the foot, looking around the empty kitchen. 

"Hello?" he asked. 

"In here, Clark," Jonathan's voice replied from the living room. Still holding Linda he walked into the living room and stopped short. Jonathan and Martha were sitting on the couch, while Bruce and Alfred stood near the fireplace - and Pete stood near the window. 

"Pete!" Linda grinned as she squirmed. Clark helped her down, and Linda ran over to the sheriff, hugging him around his torso. 

"Hey, E.T.," Pete replied, hugging her back. "Long time no see. How you feeling?" 

"Not bad," Linda replied. "So, what's going on?" 

"Uh, Linda, why don't you go out to the barn?" Jonathan suggested. "Dick's out there, and you can check on the herd, make sure everyone's settled in for the evening." Linda groaned, but she knew better than to argue. She headed out of the living room and out the kitchen door. 

"So, what's going on?" Clark asked. 

"We're trying to come up with a cover story concerning Linda's disappearance," Martha explained. 

"But she's not gone," Clark said. 

"But to everyone else, she has to be," Jonathan replied. He nodded at Bruce. "Bruce believes that it's best if we pretend that Linda is missing right now so he can do his investigation." 

"Her attackers need to believe they succeeded," Bruce added, "but we can't say that she's dead - not yet, anyway. For now, she's missing." 

"We also had to come up with a plausible story about why she's been missing for so long and we haven't reported it before now," Jonathan continued. 

"So, what did we come up with?" Clark asked. 

"Linda was going to go camping in the woods near Crater Lake," Jonathan answered. "She wanted to do some sketching of the night life around there, and we let her. She wasn't scheduled to return until this afternoon." 

"Wow," Clark said. "That's a good story." He eyed his best friend. "And what's your role in this?" 

"I'm here to keep the deputies busy on the opposite side of town while Bruce conducts his investigation at the river," Pete replied. He was the only person outside the Kent family who knew Bruce was Batman. "I'll even make sure the story gets leaked to the Ledger." 

"In that case, I better call Lois again," Clark replied. 

"Again?" Martha asked. 

"I called her earlier to let her know about what happened between Linda and Lucy," Clark replied. "I didn't want her to have only half the facts when Lucy got back home." 

"How did she take it?" Martha asked. 

"She wasn't thrilled," Clark answered, "but she's not mad at Linda . . . or me." 

"Well, that's good," Jonathan replied, "but why do you need to call her again?" 

"Because Perry, Lois, Chloe, and Jimmy know Linda's alive," Clark said. "And Lucy, now. If they run the story of Linda being dead, Lucy will know it's a sham, and we can't have anyone outside getting involved and possibly tipping off Linda's attackers that she's still alive." 

"Good point." Jonathan nodded. 

"And what's going to happen to Linda?" Clark asked. 

"She has to stay here until this is over," Bruce replied. "That means, all of you are going to have to act like she is missing if you go out in public." 

"Linda is not going to be happy about staying put," Clark replied. He knew how easily Linda became fidgety when she had to stay in one place for a long time. 

"Hopefully it will only be for a few days," Jonathan said. 

"Well, I better get going," Pete spoke up. "It's getting dark, and I'll need time to organize a search team." He nodded and left through the front door. 

"Guess I better call Lois and everyone else," Clark replied, heading for the kitchen. He stopped. "Oh, who's going to be the one to tell Linda she's stuck here?" 

"I'll do it," Martha replied, getting to her feet and heading into the kitchen. 

"Clark and I can get started on dinner," Jonathan said. He glanced at Clark and grinned. "What do you think, Clark?" 

"Chinese?" Clark suggested. "I know this place in Beijing. And Linda's never had Chinese food before." 

Jonathan chuckled and nodded. "Get out of here, you nut." Clark grinned and headed for the kitchen door. A few moments later they heard a familiar whooshing sound. 

"Very nicely handled, sir," Alfred replied, wryly. 

"Thank you, Alfred," Jonathan said, getting to his feet and heading into the kitchen. 

"And I assume you're going to be getting ready to work, sir?" Alfred asked Bruce. 

"Of course," Bruce answered, heading for the den. Alfred shook his head for a moment before he started tidying up. 

(End of Chapter 13) 


	14. Chapter 14

- - - - 

Linda sat on the couch in the loft, leaning her back against the far arm. Her knees were pulled up close to her, and she propped her sketch book against her thighs. Dick was on the floor, playing with Krypto and Streaky, laughing and gently wrestling with them. The young girl smiled as she quietly sketched the trio, the tip of her tongue sticking out from her mouth. 

"Are you done yet?" Dick asked before Krypto slobbered his face. 

Linda finished the pencil stroke. "Done," she replied. She put the pencil on her ear and turned the sketch pad around. v Dick sat up and looked at the sketch. The vivid detail - not just in the characteristics but the overall atmosphere - was amazing. "Wow," he whispered as he stood up and walked over. "That's really good." 

"Thanks," Linda said as she swung her legs around to rest on the footlocker/coffee table, giving Dick room to sit beside her. The pets decided to wrestle with each other on the floor, and Dick and Linda watched with smiles on their faces. 

"So, uh, what else you got in there?" Dick asked after a few moments, nodding at the pad in Linda's hands. 

"Not much," Linda replied. "Just stuff that comes to mind when I get an idea . . . or even when I'm bored." She flipped through the pages, showing off her other sketches. She froze when she saw the sketch she did of Jimmy. 

"Who's that?" Dick asked. 

"Uh, no one," Linda replied quickly, blushing as she flipped the page to a blank one. 

Dick raised an eyebrow. "That's him, isn't it?" he asked. 

"Who?" Linda asked. 

"Jimmy," Dick replied. Linda's eyes welled up with tears, and she slowly nodded. "You want to talk about it?" 

"What's there to talk about?" Linda asked. "I made a complete fool of myself in front of a guy who wanted to be nothing more than friends, and now I have a feeling I've lost that as well because I nearly took off his girlfriend's head." 

"But it wasn't your fault," Dick replied. 

"I know that," Linda said, "but I don't think that will matter to him." She sighed and shook her head. "No offense, but can we move on to a different subject?" 

"Sorry," Dick replied. 

"It's okay," Linda said. She took a deep breath. "Um, look, I've been thinking about that insignia on my attackers' jackets . . . and I think it's something we really need to look into." 

"How?" Dick asked. 

"Well, I did mention Cutter and Wally," Linda replied. "We could -" 

"No," Dick interrupted, "absolutely not." 

"Why not?" Linda asked. "They're the best investigators in town." 

"Uh, huh," Dick replied, not believing two teenagers could be better than the police - or Bruce. "Besides, you can't go anywhere. You're missing, remember? And your mother told you to stay put until your attackers are caught." 

"So?" Linda asked. "Look, we can just give them the information, and then let them run with it." Dick didn't look convinced. "Okay, fine, you can stay here, but I'm going to the school." 

"The school?" Dick asked. 

"Yeah, they work there to get the paper ready for the morning edition," Linda replied. "And with word getting out about my disappearance I have no doubt they'll be hard at work." 

Dick was speechless as Linda got to her feet and walked over to her desk. He watched her scribble on a piece of paper. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

"Leaving a note," Linda replied. "Just in case we're not back before they notice we're missing." She left the note on the desk and turned around. "Are you sure you don't want to come?" 

Dick hesitated. He knew if he went with her, he'd be risking serious trouble if the adults found out - even with Bruce gone on his investigation and Clark still over in China getting dinner. Dick didn't have any experience of seeing Alfred in a disciplinarian role, but he had seen the butler dealing with Bruce many times. He had also seen how the Kents were around Clark and Linda, and he knew that both Alfred and the Kents had one thing in common: they were all probably formidable - and painful - disciplinarians, and the last thing he wanted to be on was the receiving end. Still, he knew he couldn't just leave Linda to her own devices, even with her possibly being the strongest female on the face of the planet. He sighed. 

"Fine," he replied as he got to his feet. "I'll go with you." 

"Great," Linda smiled. She tore the page containing the sketch she drew of the insignia from her pad, folded it up, and put it in her jeans pocket. Then she walked over and quickly picked up Dick, holding him securely in her arms. "Hold on." Before Dick could reply, the young girl blurred down the loft stairs, out the barn, and into the darkness. 

- - - - 

The Torch office was dimly lit as Cutter, Wally, and Dick Malverne worked quietly on the paper. Actually, Cutter and Wally were busy cutting and pasting the front page of the paper. The headline read 'Smallville Student Missing,' in bold black letters. Linda's yearbook picture was situated around the story of her disappearance, but it was the only thing in the room that showed any cheerfulness. Cutter and Wally were quiet, their faces solemn. Dick sat at the desk chair, trying to distract himself by searching for anything of interest to use in the story, but he couldn't. His eyes were bright with tears, but he refused to cry. He didn't want to appear weak. 

"Hey, Dick," Cutter said. Dick looked up. "Why don't you go home, man? We can handle this." 

Dick shook his head. "No." 

"Maybe you should," Wally replied. "You look very tired." 

"I'm fine!" Dick snapped, effectively startling his friends. He paused and sighed. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I just . . . ." 

Cutter nodded, understanding. "I know, Dick." 

Dick shook his head. "It doesn't make sense," he said. "Linda doesn't seem the type who'd run away." 

"I'm not." Three heads turned to the entrance and saw a familiar silhouette standing in the doorframe. The figure slowly stepped into the room, and the trio could see it was Linda. She smiled at them. "Hi, guys." 

"Linda?" Dick asked, slowly getting to his feet. The young girl nodded. All three guys hurried over to her, but it was Dick who reached her first. He enveloped her in a big hug, and Cutter and Wally soon joined him. 

"Are you okay?" Cutter asked. 

"Where have you been?" Wally asked. 

"Do you realize how worried we've been?" Dick asked. 

"I'm fine," Linda replied, pulling back slightly. 

"What's going on?" Dick asked. "You're supposed to be missing." 

"It's a long story," Linda answered. She looked over her shoulder. "It's okay to come in now." A few moments later Dick Grayson slowly came in. He warily looked at the trio of guys with Linda. 

"Who's this?" Cutter asked. 

"Dick Grayson," Linda replied. "Dick, these are my friends, Cutter, Wally, and Dick." 

"Two Dicks in the same room?" Wally asked, an eyebrow raised. "Okay, this is going to get confusing real quick." 

"Dick Grasyon?" Cutter asked, ignoring Wally. "You from Gotham City, by any chance?" 

"Yeah, that's me," Dick replied wryly. "I'm the Dick Grayson." He eyed the other Dick. "But I guess you can call me Richard - for now." He looked at Linda. "So, you going to show them or what?" 

Linda raised an eyebrow. Her friend had suddenly developed a backbone and was taking charge of the situation. Interesting, she thought, as she tried not to smile too wide. 

"Whoa, wait one second," Dick Malverne said, stepping closer to Dick Grasyon. "Who put you in charge?" 

"No one's in charge," Linda replied, stepping between the two. "We're in this together - all of us." She glanced at Dick Malverne and noticed he looked a little pale. "Hey, you okay?" 

"I'm fine," Dick Malverne shrugged. "Now, what's going on?" 

Linda furrowed her eyebrows, but she didn't want to intrude. "Um, well, it's a long story." She turned to her high school friends. "Maybe you three better sit down. It's a little . . . complicated . . . and we don't have a lot of time." 

- - - - 

Batman fastened the specially designed scuba mask and breathing apparatus over his face and cowl, making sure it was snug and secure, before he leapt off the rail of the Loeb Bridge. He barely made a splash into the river, even in his fitted rubber suit. He flipped a switch on the side of his mask, and two bright beams shot out from the top of his mask, over his eyes, and cut through the murky water. The Gothamite breathed normally as he swam downward. He reached the muddy bottom, about thirty feet from the water's surface, and he skimmed the bottom, stirring up mud with his feet, looking for the one thing that could possibly identify the person or persons responsible for attacking Linda. 

- - - - 

"Linda!" Clark shouted as he walked into the loft, carrying a couple of bamboo containers of warm Chinese food, dressed in plaid and jeans. "Dick! I got dinner!" He headed up the steps to the loft. He had first gone to the house to drop off food for the others and had learned that Bruce had already left and Linda and Dick were hanging out in the loft with the pets. Clark reached the loft and stopped short. The pets were lounging out on the couch. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked around. "Hello?" No one replied as his eyes fell on a single sheet of paper with writing on the loft desk. Curious, he walked over, put the bamboo containers down on the desk, and picked up the paper, reading it silently: 

_ Dick and I went to the Torch to give some information to Cutter and Wally. Don't worry, we'll be back soon.   
  
Linda_

Clark sighed, frustrated, and closed his eyes as he crumpled the note in his hands. "I'm going to kill her myself," he growled as he turned and hurried down the steps and out of the barn, heading back to the house. 

- - - - 

Batman surfaced, the large kryptonite rock in his hand, the chain wrapped around his wrist. He expertly swam to the shore and stood on the muddy bank, water dripping from his suit as he stared at the rock. He hadn't had too much experience in seeing how Kryptonite affected Kryptonians (he hadn't even see how it affected Clark; he was only told what the end result was - slow and painful death), but he could only imagine how much suffering Linda had gone through in the murky water with that thing tied around her neck. He felt an anger boiling deep in him, and he squeezed the rock in his hand so tightly that it cracked a bit. He heard the sound of a vehicle approaching, and he looked up and saw the Kents' red truck stopping near the bridge. Batman furrowed his eyebrows as both Jonathan and Clark - in civilian clothes - got out and headed towards him. Clark saw the rock in his friend's hand and tensed, stopping about thirty feet from the Dark Knight. 

"What's going on?" Bruce asked as Jonathan reached him. 

"Is that the rock?" Jonathan asked, eyeing the Kryptonite in Batman's hand. 

"Not unless there's another rock with a chain attached to it at the river's bottom I'm not aware of," Batman replied wryly. "Now, what is going on?" 

Jonathan ignored the sarcasm. "Linda and Dick are gone. Clark found a note in the loft." 

"Let me guess," Batman said, "they eloped." 

"Bruce," Jonathan warned the Gothamite, frowning. 

"Where are they?" Bruce asked. 

"At the Torch," Jonathan replied. 

"And what is the Torch?" Bruce asked. 

"It's the high school's newspaper," Clark replied, trying to keep his voice as low as possible. "Linda's friends run it, and she and Dick went to give them information concerning her attackers." 

Bruce sighed, frustrated. He hated having his plans ruined, no matter who it was. "Where is the high school?" 

"Whoa, hold it," Jonathan replied, putting a hand on Batman's chest. "I know Dick is your son, but Linda's our territory and the apparent ringleader in this, and we will be in charge here. You don't like it, you can go back to the farm and wait for us to return." He glanced at the rock in the Dark Knight's hands and immediately got sick to his stomach, thinking of how much that thing hurt both of his children. "And I know you need to use that, but please get it out of my sight." 

Bruce was silent for a moment, then he nodded. "Give me a few minutes to change." 

Jonathan nodded once before turning on his heel and heading back to the truck. Clark joined him, and Bruce watched them get into the vehicle. He then pulled a small, lead-lined bag from a compartment on his utility belt and put the rock in it. Once it was securely closed, he looked up, just as Jonathan came over, some of Bruce's clothes in his hands. He handed them to Bruce. 

"You've got two minutes before we leave," Jonathan said. He didn't wait for a response and turned, heading back to the truck. 

The Gothamite raised an eyebrow from underneath his cowl, and it took him a moment to recover from Jonathan's forcefulness. It wasn't anything new to him, but it had been taken to a whole new level; he knew Jonathan wasn't going to cut him any slack - not when the well-being of his daughter was at stake. Batman looked around for a place to conceal himself while he changed, and he spotted a small group of tall bushes a hundred feet to his left; he quietly headed for them. 

(End of Chapter 14) 


	15. Chapter 15

- - - - 

"So?" Linda asked. Cutter, Dick Malverne, and Wally glanced at each other, not sure of what to say. It wasn't that they didn't believe her; it just . . . didn't make sense. 

"So, you have no idea who would attack you?" Dick Malverne asked. 

"Nope," Linda replied. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the piece of sketch paper. "I only have this." Cutter took the paper and unfolded it as Dick Malverne and Wally crowed around. Linda and Dick Grayson glanced at each other briefly. "Think you can do anything with that?" 

"We'll see what we can do," Cutter replied as he studied the sketched insignia. 

"I appreciate it," Linda said. 

"So, what are you going to do now?" Dick Malverne asked as he warily eyed the Gothamite standing next to his friend. 

Linda shrugged. "My attackers think I'm dead, and everyone else thinks - or has to pretend - I'm missing. I gotta lay low for right now." v "Oh, you're going to be laying low for a long time," a distinctly deep and masculine voice spoke up from behind Linda. "I can promise you that." 

Linda stiffened, and her eyes went widened when she recognized the voice. She slowly turned around and saw two silhouettes standing in the open office, the hall light shining behind them. Linda recognized them immediately, and tried her best to appear cool. 

"Hi, Daddy," she replied, smiling. "Clark." Jonathan and Clark stepped into the office, and everyone could see how angry they were. "I take it you got my note." 

"Young lady, what part of 'do not leave the farm' don't you understand?" Jonathan asked. 

Linda's smile faded. "Well, you see, I was just -" 

"I don't want to hear it," Jonathan interrupted. "You are in very big trouble right now." He glared at Dick Grayson. "You too, Dick." 

"Does Bruce know?" Dick asked softly, taking a step back. 

"What do you think?" a low voice asked before a third figure appeared in the doorframe. 

Dick's eyes went wide. "Oh, boy." 

"Yeah," Bruce replied, fixing his adopted son with a glare. He quickly took in the scene before him and saw Cutter wad up a piece of paper behind his back and discreetly stuff it in his back pocket. Normally, Bruce would have asked about it, but he had other things to worry about at the moment. He looked back at Dick. "I'll deal with you when we get back to the farm." 

"Clark, take Linda and Dick to the truck," Jonathan said, looking at the other boys. "Bruce and I need to have a talk with her friends for a moment." 

"But, Daddy, I -" 

"Linda, let's go," Clark interrupted, his voice deadly serious. Linda sighed and glanced at her friends with an apologetic expression before slinking out of the office with Dick Grayson close behind her. 

"Alright, talk," Jonathan said as he folded his arms. "Why were Linda and Dick here?" 

"Uh, who's he?" Dick asked, pointing to Bruce. 

"That's Bruce Wayne," Wally whispered in his friend's ear. 

"That's the Bruce Wayne?" Dick whispered back. 

"Knock it off," Jonathan cut in. The boys fell silent. "Now, I want some answers." 

"Sir, with all due respect," Cutter spoke up, "we're pleading the Fifth." 

"We are?" Wally asked. Cutter nodded, standing firm, folding his arms across his chest. Dick and Wally glanced at each other and shrugged before following Cutter's example. 

Bruce turned slightly at the waist, toward Jonathan, and said conversationally, "Don't you just love it when minors try to stick it to you with rights that they technically don't have yet?" 

Jonathan sighed. He was glad that Linda had loyal friends, but right now . . . he wanted to throttle each and every one of them. "Look, guys, I appreciate the loyalty to Linda, but this is serious. If she's talked to you about anything, we need to know; this concerns her life." 

"We know," Cutter replied, "but she didn't really tell us anything except what was going on." 

Jonathan nodded, then leaned over to Bruce. "What do you think?" 

Bruce eyed the trio. He knew they were lying, but he didn't know about what. If it was his town, he'd be tempted to 'encourage' them to confess, but this was Clark's turf and Linda's friends, and he knew he couldn't do a thing. Besides, he could always talk to Dick and see what he knew. "They're clean," Bruce replied. 

Jonathan nodded. "Very well," he said. He looked back at the three boys. "Okay, this is how it's going to go - and there's no room for negotiation. I don't know what you three are planning to do, but you will tell no one about Linda being found. Until further notice, you will behave as if she is still missing. If word gets out that she's not missing, and she's hurt as a result of it, I will deal with you myself. Do I make myself clear?" 

"Yes, sir," the trio mumbled. 

"Now, finish up here and get home before it gets too late," Jonathan replied. "Bruce, let's go." The two headed out the door, but then Jonathan stopped just outside the office. "Oh, and Dick, you better leave now and get home and tell your parents you were here, because I'll be calling them in the morning." 

Dick's eyes widened, and he swallowed hard as the two men left. He turned to Cutter and Wally. "Uh, I think I'll be going now," he said quietly. "Think you can handle yourselves?" 

"Go home, Dick," Cutter said. "We'll be fine." Dick nodded and gathered his things before leaving. Cutter waited until he was gone before pulling the wadded up paper from his pocket and unfolding it. 

Wally came over and looked at the sketch. "So, what do you want to do?" he asked. 

"I'll finish up the paper," Cutter replied. "You work on finding out what this thing is." Wally nodded and grabbed the sketch, heading over to his terminal while Cutter went back to working on the front page. 

- - - - 

The kitchen door slammed open, and Alfred looked over as Jonathan marched into house. He was followed by Clark and then Bruce. A few moments later Linda and Dick slunk in. Alfred raised an eyebrow, then he looked at the three men. 

"Dick," Bruce replied. "I have work to do, and I'm very tired. I will deal with you in the morning." He headed back out the door, closing it behind him. 

"Come, Master Dick," Alfred said. "I believe it's past your bedtime." Dick didn't say anything as he headed off down the hall with Alfred. It wasn't until the den that the teen spoke up. 

"Do you think he's mad?" Dick asked. 

"Most assuredly," Alfred replied as he busied himself with getting Dick's nightclothes. 

"Will he still be mad in the morning?" 

"Without a doubt." 

"Am I in trouble?" 

"You have to ask?" 

"Why's he so mad at me?" 

Alfred stopped and looked at Dick. "You left without permission to investigate an attempted murder in which a teenager with superpowers nearly died. Does that sum it up for you?" 

"Oh." Dick paused. "And he'll still be mad in the morning? Even if he has all night to forget about me?" 

"I believe you are the one thing he won't be putting out of his mind tonight. And yes, he will still be quite angry with you in the morning." 

"What do you think he'll do to me?" 

"I wouldn't worry about that at the moment, Master Dick. He will make his decision tonight, much as you made yours, and once he has made up his mind, the matter is final." Alfred turned around, handing Dick his clothes. "I would, suggest getting changed and getting to bed immediately. You're going to need all the rest you can get." 

- - - - 

Linda glanced up at her father and cousin, and they frowned right back at her. "Well, seeing how it's late," she said, "I think I'll go to bed too." She started for the stairs. 

"Hold it, Linda," Jonathan said. Linda stopped. "We're not done with you yet." 

Linda sighed and turned around. "Look, I know you're mad, but -" 

"Mad doesn't even begin to cover our emotions right now," Jonathan interrupted. He glanced up as Martha came down the stairs. She saw her daughter and hurried down to meet her. "Martha, not now. She's fine, but not now." Martha nodded, and walked past Linda to stand next to her husband. "Now, let's go over something, because I'm a little confused. Did your mother come out and tell you that you are not to leave the farm until further notice?" 

"Yes, she did," Linda replied. 

"Then what would possess you to disobey that?" Jonathan asked. "Especially with your life on the line?" 

"Well, you see, because -" Linda stopped. If she told why she went to the Torch her friends would get in trouble. "I'm pleading the Fifth." 

"Young lady, this is a very serious matter," Martha said. "Why did you and Dick go to the Torch?" 

"I can't tell you," Linda replied. 

"Fine," Jonathan said. "Then you can just stay in your room until you do tell us." 

"What?" Linda frowned. "That is not fair!" 

"Yes, well, I'm beginning to think you don't understand fair," Jonathan replied. "Fair isn't making us worry about where you are and if you're safe; as far as I'm concerned, fair left town when someone tried to murder you! Fair's gone, so now you have to deal with me!" 

"So, what, am I grounded again?" Linda asked, frowning as she folded her arms. 

"Yes, but we're adding something to the mix this time," Jonathan answered, "since just grounding you doesn't seem to be having an affect on your behavior." 

"What?" Linda asked. 

Jonathan looked at Martha, and she knew what he was thinking. She nodded, silently agreeing with him. Jonathan turned back to his daughter. "Linda, remember when we talked about what a spanking was?" 

"Yeah, so?" Linda asked. Her eyes suddenly got wide. "Daddy, I'm really sorry! I promise, I'll never leave again - I'll stay, I promise! I'm really sorry!" 

Jonathan nodded, feeling horrible for having his daughter plead like that, but he knew he couldn't waver. "I'm sorry too, sweetie . . . I don't want to do this, but you've given us no alternative. Now, go to your room - I'll be up there in a minute." 

Linda looked at her mother, her eyes wide and pleading. "Momma?" 

Martha wanted to take her daughter and hug her, but she couldn't. She took a deep breath. "Linda, do as your father tells you." 

Linda turned to Clark. Surely he would help her. "Clark?" 

Clark shook his head. "I'm sorry, honey--saving you from this would only hurt you more." 

Staring at her cousin in disbelief, Linda felt utterly betrayed. She sighed, defeated, and slowly headed up the stairs. 

Jonathan sighed. "I don't know if I can do this." 

Martha put a hand on Jonathan's shoulder. "You need to do this, Jonathan . . . you can't waver now." 

"Martha, I don't want her to be scared of me." 

"Dad, she won't be," Clark replied. 

"How do you know, Clark?" Jonathan asked. 

"Because look how I turned out. I'm the world's strongest man . . . and I still have respect for my father - without fearing you. I know Linda's situation is a little different . . . but she'll be fine. You've given her more love than she knows what to do with. Just think of this as . . . well, as a stepping stone. You're doing this to show her how much you love her, how far you would go and how much pain you'd suffer to keep her safe, and once she realizes that - and she will - do you realize how better off she'll be? You will have broken through a barrier that she's had up for over fifteen years - and she'll be better person." He put a hand on his father's shoulder. "Go show her how much you love her, Dad." 

Jonathan looked at his son and smiled a bit, but he was grateful and felt a little better, even though he was still reluctant. He pat his son's shoulder, then he kissed his wife's forehead before heading up the stairs. 

"Thank you, Clark," Martha said. 

Clark shrugged. "It was nothing special." 

"I beg to differ, young man. Your father needed that vote of confidence . . . ." 

Clark sighed and glanced up at the stairs. "So, now what" 

"Well," Martha replied, "knowing your father - and Linda - it'll probably take at least an hour to explain everything. Then he'll proceed with what needs to be done." 

"Then he'll be up there for another hour . . . telling her how much he loves her," Clark replied. He noticed his mother looking worried. "Mom, she's going to be fine." 

Martha nodded. "I know . . . but I'm still a mother, Clark. It's in my blood to worry." 

Clark nodded, and he put his arm around his mother's shoulders. "Come on," he said softly. "Why don't we go to the barn for a while?" 

"Clark, I'd rather stay nearby," Martha replied, "in case Jonathan or Linda need me." 

"Mom," Clark said gently, "I never liked knowing you could hear what went on during my punishments. And while there's something to be said for natural consequences, this is Linda's first trip over . . . and it's going to be traumatic enough for her." 

Martha looked up at her son, and after a few moments she nodded, understanding. Still keeping his arm around her shoulders, Clark led her out the kitchen door. 

(End of Chapter 15) 


	16. Chapter 16

- - - -  
  
The ringing of the phone jarred Jimmy from a sound sleep, and he shot up into a sitting position, his gray t-shirt sheets tangled around him. He looked around his darkened room, and his eyes finally settled on the digital alarm clock on his nightstand. It was after midnight. Jimmy groaned and flopped down. Who would be calling him so late? He sighed and picked up the phone on the third ring.  
  
"H'lo?" he mumbled.  
  
"Jimmy?"  
  
The young photographer furrowed his eyebrows. "Chloe?" he asked.  
  
"Hey," Chloe replied. "I didn't wake you and your mom up, did I?"  
  
"No, she left earlier this evening," Jimmy answered as he turned on his lamp. He blinked reflexively a few times. "She had some work to do in Vegas."  
  
"Vegas?" Chloe asked. "I thought she was a crime scene investigator."  
  
"She's doing some consulting work with the Vegas Police," Jimmy smiled a bit. He yawned. "So, what's with the late night pillow talk?"  
  
"You remember how Linda was attacked last night?"  
  
"Yeah, of course." Jimmy sat up. "What's wrong? Is she okay?"  
  
"She's fine, don't worry, but, um . . . it's gotten a little complicated."  
  
"How so?"  
  
"Well, Clark is looking into it, and he wants all of us to behave as if Linda's missing to draw out her attackers. Pete's even going to leak the story to the Ledger."  
  
"Okay, that sounds reasonable," Jimmy replied.  
  
"But it's not going to be in the Planet tomorrow," Chloe added.  
  
Jimmy was confused. "Why not? I thought we were pretending Linda was missing."  
  
"Well, we are . . . but we aren't at the same time." She paused and sighed. "Look, you're going to find out about this anyway, so you might as well hear it from me: Lucy was out at the Kent's farm today . . . and she confronted Linda."  
  
"Why was Lucy there in the first place?"  
  
"I don't know," Chloe lied. She didn't want to have to explain to Jimmy that she knew what happened . . . because Lois snooped on his computer. "All I know is that Lucy got mad at Linda, they argued . . . and Linda . . . kinda punched Lucy."  
  
Jimmy's eyes went wide. "What?"  
  
"Yeah, it kinda surprised us too."  
  
"Is everyone okay?"  
  
"Well, Lucy's got a black eye, nothing serious, and she is being a real pain with Lois and her mother. She's been grounded, indefinitely."  
  
"How's Linda?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Clark says she was pretty upset," Chloe answered, "but no one's really upset with her. Lucy did goad Linda."  
  
Jimmy sighed. "And let me guess: we can't print that Linda's missing in the Planet, because Lucy knows she's not, and we can't take the risk of her finding out."  
  
"Exactly," Chloe replied, slightly impressed. Jimmy was really a lot sharper than she gave him credit . . . especially after having just woken up. "So, what do you think?"  
  
Jimmy sighed. "I can deal. Thanks for the call." He hung up before Chloe could pester him about yesterday. He leaned back, worried about Linda, and angry at Lucy. He knew he couldn't do anything about it that night, but he would definitely find out what was going on tomorrow.  
  
- - - -  
  
It was over two hours later when Clark and Martha finally felt it was safe to venture back into the house. Bruce was working up in Linda's loft, so the two Kents had spent the time in the barn, just talking softly about everything and nothing, each trying not to think of what was going on inside the farmhouse. It was only after they had run out of things to talk did they decide to go back into the house.  
  
Clark slowly opened the door and looked in. Everything was quiet, and no one was in the kitchen. Clark and Martha looked into the living room and saw Jonathan sitting on the couch. His elbows were resting on his knees, and his face was buried in his hands.  
  
"I'll go talk to Linda," Clark whispered. He headed for the stairs, but Martha stopped him.  
  
"Maybe I should talk to her," Martha replied softly. She glanced briefly at Jonathan. "Your father needs you right now."  
  
Clark furrowed his eyebrows, not understanding, but he nodded. He slowly headed into the living room while Martha ventured upstairs. Clark had his hands in his pockets as he walked over to the couch and sat down beside his father. Jonathan didn't even seem to acknowledge his son.  
  
"You going to be okay?" Clark asked softly.  
  
"I feel like the lowest form of life on the planet," Jonathan replied, his voice barely audible and cracking.  
  
"Dad, you did what had to be done," Clark said.  
  
"I made my daughter scared of me, Clark."  
  
"No, Dad, Linda loves you so much."  
  
Jonathan looked up at his son, his eyes red and bright from crying. "You didn't see the look she gave me: fear, betrayal . . . ." He shook his head. "I don't think she'll ever feel safe around me again, Clark."  
  
Clark had hardly ever seen his father cry, and for a moment he had no idea what to say or do. Jonathan didn't wait around for a response. He simply got up and left the living room, heading out the kitchen door. Clark couldn't move or say anything, and he just stayed on the couch, wondering if what his said father was actually going to come happen.  
  
- - - -  
  
Martha slowly opened the door to Linda's bedroom and looked in. The room was lit only by the lamp on the nightstand next to the bed. Linda lay curled on her side, her back facing the door, and Martha could hear her sniffling softly. She walked in, closed the door behind her, and padded slowly over to the bed, sitting down. She reached a hand over and gently touched her daughter's shoulder.  
  
"Sweetie, do you want to talk?" she asked softly. Linda shook her head a bit, and Martha nodded, understanding. "Okay." She carefully took off her shoes and shifted on the bed, laying next to her, putting her arms around her daughter and pulling her close to her, letting her know she was safe. She was relieved that Linda didn't resist, but they both stayed silent.  
  
"Your father loves you," Martha whispered in her daughter's ear after a few minutes of silence. "He really does. And I know it hurt and probably scared you when he did that, but it hurt him and scared him too. He doesn't want you to be scared of him."  
  
"Then why did he do that?" Linda asked, not turning around.  
  
"Because he wanted you to know that what you did was very, very wrong," Martha replied. "Linda, someone tried to kill you, and you leaving the way you did was dangerous, especially taking Dick with you. And now, what about your friends? They know you're not dead now."  
  
"But I trust them," Linda said softly.  
  
"It's not about trust, Linda," Martha replied. "We don't know who tried to kill you or why. What if someone found out about your powers - or learned about Clark - and that's why they tried to kill you? What if your attackers saw you and followed you? What if they know that your friends know?" She paused to take a breath, making sure to keep her voice gentle. "Linda, you didn't think this through . . . and that's why we got upset."  
  
"That's what Daddy said too," Linda said.  
  
"And he's right," Martha That's why he spanked you. It's because we love you so much; we don't want to see anything happen to you. Do you understand that?"  
  
Linda shrugged. "Daddy asked me, but I told him I didn't know . . . does that make me bad?"  
  
Martha squeezed her daughter gently in her arms. "No, honey, it doesn't." She kissed Linda's cheek, knowing how exhausted the young girl was. "Why don't you get some rest, sweetie. You've had a long day. I'll stay with you . . . if you want."  
  
"I'd like that," Linda said softly. She shifted a bit, then paused, thinking. "Momma?"  
  
"Yes, Linda?"  
  
"Do you think I'll ever understand why Daddy spanked me?"  
  
"I really hope so." Martha kissed Linda's cheek, and rested hers against her daughter's. She felt her daughter relaxing as both the Kent girls drifted off to sleep.  
  
- - - -  
  
The next morning Linda opened her eyes and found herself staring at her father. He was laying next to her (she was sandwiched between her parents, and they were all covered with an thick quilt) and smiling warmly at her. "Morning, sleepyhead," he said softly.  
  
Linda furrowed her eyebrows. "What are you doing here?" she asked, shifting to a sitting position, careful not to wake her mother.  
  
"I came in shortly after you two fell asleep and though you two would like some company," Jonathan replied.  
  
"What time is it?" Linda asked.  
  
"It's a little after eight," Jonathan answered. "Clark is handling the chores this morning, so don't worry about that." He sighed. "Honey, about last night . . . do you want to talk?" Linda turned her head. "I know you probably hate me, but I -"  
  
"I don't hate you," Linda replied.  
  
Jonathan didn't look convinced. "I don't buy that."  
  
"It's true," Linda said. "I just . . . ." She took a deep breath. "I need to figure all of this out."  
  
"Maybe we should talk then."  
  
"No," Linda replied. She carefully took the quilt off her and scooted off the bed. "I'm sorry, Dad, but I need to figure this out on my own."  
  
Jonathan had to bite his lower lip, hurt, but understanding. He nodded. "Okay, sweetie. But if you need to talk . . . we'll be here for you." Linda nodded and headed for the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Jonathan felt a hand on his shoulder, and her turned to see Martha sitting up beside him. "Did we -"  
  
"No," Martha replied. "I just didn't want to interfere."  
  
"I don't know what to do, Martha."  
  
"You're going to respect her wishes," Martha replied. "You told her we were here for her. The next move is hers, Jonathan. She wants to be alone right now; let her be alone." Jonathan sighed, but he nodded as he reached up and squeezed his wife's hand.  
  
(End of Chapter 16) 


	17. Chapter 17

- - - -  
  
There was a sharp chill in the air, and the sky was overcast as Jimmy walked through a secluded part of Centennial Park. He pulled his jacket closer around him and shivered slightly, but he wasn't going to be deterred by anything. He had a mission, and he was going to accomplish it. He pushed through a thick mass of bushes and emerged into a clearing.  
  
He could see the entire campus of the University of Metropolis from where he stood, but he was more interested in the lone person - a brunette girl - sitting on a blanket in the clearing, back to him, dressed warmly. He sighed and walked over.  
  
"I thought you were grounded," he said.  
  
Lucy was a little startled, and she looked over her shoulder up at him. The area around her eye was a wicked purple, and Jimmy winced inwardly, only because he knew it looked extremely painful, but he showed no outward sympathy for her.  
  
"What do you want?" Lucy asked, looking away from him.  
  
"We need to talk," Jimmy answered. "You had no business going to Smallville." Lucy snorted. "I'm serious, Lucy. Why did you do it?" Lucy remained silent, and Jimmy nodded. "Typical."  
  
"What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"You know exactly what I mean. Next thing you're going to tell me is that it was all Linda's fault that you got that black eye."  
  
"She hit me!" Lucy frowned as she got to her feet.  
  
"You were looking for a fight!" Jimmy retorted. "Otherwise you wouldn't have gone there!"  
  
"Well, you kissed her! This is all your fault!"  
  
Jimmy furrowed his eyebrows. "What are you talking about?"  
  
"I know all about your little fling in July."  
  
Jimmy froze. "How did you find out about that?"  
  
"Lois and Chloe were gabbing about it yesterday," Lucy snootily replied. "About how you wrote Linda a love letter. Really pathetic, you know."  
  
Jimmy frowned. There was only one way they could have found out about the letter, and he quickly figured out when it happened. He vowed to talk to both of them later about that, but that would come later. He had another matter to take care of.  
  
"You know, you haven't changed," Jimmy replied. "You're always blaming others for your mistakes, but you crossed the line by going after Linda."  
  
"So, you do like the little hick farm slut, huh?"  
  
Jimmy felt his hands clench and his body tense, but he kept his arms at his side. "What is your deal with her?" Lucy started to open her mouth, but Jimmy stopped her. "You know what, I don't want to hear it. You had no right to go to Linda, and I really don't ever want to see you again."  
  
Lucy's eyes narrowed. "Fine. It's your loss."  
  
Jimmy snorted. "Have a nice life," he said as he turned on his feet and walked away, disappearing through the bushes.  
  
Lucy watched him for a few moments. "Ahole!" she shouted.  
  
Jimmy stopped just on the other side of the bushes, and let his breath out. He couldn't believe he had just confronted Lucy like that, but as much as he hated it, it felt really good to get all that off his chest after keeping it inside for so long . . . and he knew he was going to have plenty to say to both Chloe and Lois the following day. He took a deep breath and headed off back to his apartment.  
  
- - - -  
  
Linda lay on the couch in her loft, staring up at the ceiling. Her sketch pad and colored pencils floated beside her, and her pencils were sketching on the pad, but Linda seemed oblivious to everything. After her shower everyone had gathered around the table for breakfast, but it had been a somber - and quiet - occasion. The only thing Linda truly remembered about the entire thing was that she spent five minutes staring at her plate (she couldn't even remember what was on it) before she excused herself and headed for the barn.  
  
The young girl sighed as tears welled up in her eyes. She felt so lost, and she wanted to talk with someone . . . but she was still confused about where she stood with her family, and she was forbidden from leaving the farm, so that took out talking with her friends, and even Jimmy. She clenched her fists as she shut her eyes, and her sketch pad and pencils dropped to the floor, clattering.  
  
"I don't know what to do anymore!" she shouted as she sat up, burying her head in her hands, crying softly.  
  
[Kara.]  
  
Linda looked up, her eyes red from crying, and she looked around. There was no one else in the loft. She furrowed her eyebrows.  
  
[Kara.]  
  
Linda recognized the voice, but . . . it couldn't be. She must have misheard.  
  
[Kara, please come to me.]  
  
Linda hesitated, but she slowly got to her feet. She took a deep breath, then she made her way down the steps and out the barn. She crossed the field to the storm cellar door and reached down, grabbing the handle. She glanced over her shoulder, making sure she wasn't being followed. Satisfied she was alone, she opened the door and slowly headed down the stairs.  
  
The cellar was bathed in a soft golden glow, the light coming from Linda's ship, as it floated a few inches off the ground. Linda was confused; she didn't have the key.  
  
"You seem troubled, my Kara," the ship spoke in the familiar voice Linda had found comfort in during her time in Argo City.  
  
"I don't know what to do anymore, Rok-Var," Linda whispered as fresh tears fell down her cheeks. "I feel so lost."  
  
"I know," the ship replied. "I had anticipated this years ago when I made the decision to send you to Earth." There was a pause. "You must talk with them, Kara. You can't avoid them."  
  
"But what do I say?" Linda asked. "I feel . . . betrayed."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because . . . because . . . ."  
  
"Because they punished you?" Linda paused, but she slowly nodded. "My Kara, I know it's hard for you to understand this, but they are not like Zor-El."  
  
"I know," Linda replied. "I'm just . . . I don't know." She sighed. "I just wish I didn't feel this way." She sat on the last stone step and brought her legs to her chest, resting her chin on her knees.  
  
"Linda?" The glow from the ship faded as Linda turned her head and saw Clark standing outside the cellar door. He saw the tear streaks on his cousin's face and made his way down to her. "Honey, you okay?" He sat down beside her. "I saw your sketch pad and pencils on the loft floor, and I was worried."  
  
"I'm fine," Linda replied quietly.  
  
"No you're not," Clark said. He paused. "Are you mad at me?"  
  
"No," Linda answered. "I'm just . . . confused." She looked at him in disbelief. "You said it would hurt worse if you stopped Dad from spanking me, but it didn't."  
  
Clark sighed and put an arm around Linda's shoulders. "Linda, I meant it would hurt you in the long run. What you did was very wrong - and very dangerous. You put yourself and your friends at risk. And that's not something that can go unpunished, sweetie."  
  
"But why hit me? What did you hope to accomplish from letting him hit me?"  
  
"We hoped that you'd finally understand that you need to start listening to us," Clark replied gently, "and stop thinking you can do whatever you feel like doing." He took a deep breath. "We didn't want to put you through this, Linda, but we didn't know what else to do. We love you so much . . . I hope you still believe that."  
  
"I know . . . I just . . . I don't know, Clark." She leaned against her cousin's side, and Clark squeezed her tightly as he rested his head against hers.  
  
- - - -  
  
Dick sat on his cot in the den, hunched over, looking down, as Bruce silently paced the length of the room. Every once in a while he would stop and glare down at the young boy, then he'd go back to pacing. Alfred stood near the entrance, hands behind his back, watching and waiting. The butler knew it was going to be interesting seeing how Bruce handled disciplining Dick for the first time, and Alfred wanted to make sure that Bruce administered a proper punishment - without going overboard.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity Bruce finally stopped in front of the young boy and looked down at him, folding his arms. "Dick," he said, his voice low with edge, "look at me." Dick slowly looked up. "What would possess you to sneak out after being told to stay put?"  
  
"Well, technically, only Linda was told to stay put," Dick whispered. He wasn't being snooty; he was just stating a fact. He was scared that he might have ruined things completely, that now Bruce would be so embarrassed and angry that he wouldn't want Dick anymore.  
  
"Dick," Bruce warned, "I don't care if Linda was told to stay put. I thought you would have had the common sense not to get involved in investigating an attack that nearly killed someone with superpowers."  
  
"I couldn't let her go alone," Dick replied softly.  
  
"But you could have told the Kents," Bruce said. "Or Alfred. It's not like they were busy with anything at the moment - and even if they were, there is nothing they might have been doing that could have been more important than the safety and well-being of you and Linda." He sighed and rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. "You didn't think, Dick, and you're lucky no one was hurt, but now, because of your actions and Linda's actions, I not only have to worry about figuring out who's trying to kill Linda, and I don't even know the motive yet so it could be anyone, but now I have to worry about Linda's friends." He paused and took a deep breath. "And I have to worry about you too, because you decided to involve yourself in this."  
  
Bruce glanced at Alfred briefly then back at the young boy. "But we're going to remedy that right now. Until further notice, you are ordered to stay on these premises - out of sight. You can keep Linda company and go wherever she goes, but if she leaves the farm, you are not to follow her. You get one of us. Failure to do so will force me to use more drastic measures to show you that I mean business." He leaned close to Dick's face. "And you know I am more than capable of doing that." He was glad that Dick shrank a little. "Do I make myself clear?" Dick nodded. "Good. Now, I want you to stay here for the rest of the afternoon and think about the seriousness of what you did." Dick nodded slowly and glanced up as Bruce headed out of the den.  
  
Alfred stayed behind, knowing that he would need to explain a few things to the young boy concerning his punishment. He sat beside the young boy and put his arm around his shoulders.  
  
"He hates me," Dick said softly. "I screwed up . . . and he hates me. And he doesn't want me anymore"  
  
"Yes, you made an error in judgment," Alfred replied, "but it doesn't mean he hates you. He cares very much for your safety and well-being, otherwise he wouldn't have bothered discussing your behavior just now."  
  
"Then why didn't he say anything himself?" Dick asked.  
  
"Master Dick, you know how Master Bruce is," Alfred replied. "He has a hard time conveying his feelings towards others, especially when it comes to matters of the heart; that's how it's always been for him." He squeezed Dick's shoulder. "But he does love you. Trust me on that." The butler got to his feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have other things to attend to. I'll come and get you when your punishment is over." Alfred headed out of the den, leaving Dick alone to his thoughts as the young boy sighed and lay down on his cot, looking up at the ceiling.  
  
- - - -  
  
Jonathan was sitting at the kitchen table, drinking his coffee, having finished most of the chores. Martha was at the sink, helping Alfred wash dishes, when the kitchen door opened and Clark walked in with Linda. Both Kent kids looked solemn, but Linda looked absolutely worn out. She glanced over at Jonathan, who watched both of his children with caution. He wanted to go to them both and hug them, but he didn't want to impose, especially with Linda. Father and daughter just stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity . . . then Linda hurried over to Jonathan. The farmer was prepared, and he put down his mug and opened his arms, enveloping his daughter as she flung herself at him. She started crying softly into his shoulder. Clark, Martha, and Alfred left the kitchen as quickly and quietly as they could.  
  
"I'm sorry, Daddy," Linda whispered softly.  
  
"I know, sweetie," Jonathan replied, his voice cracking as he tried not to cry himself. He helped Linda into his lap, cradling her as she leaned against him, resting her head against his chest. "Does this mean we're okay?"  
  
Linda nodded slowly. "Clark and I talked . . . I think I understand everything now." She paused to sniffle, and Jonathan dabbed tears from her cheeks with his thumb. "I . . . I'm sorry . . . I'll never do that again."  
  
Jonathan nodded. "What are you sorry about?" he asked gently.  
  
Linda took a deep breath. "For disobeying you and Mom and Bruce . . . for putting my friends in danger . . . ."  
  
"What about you?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"What about me?" Linda asked. Jonathan raised an eyebrow and gave her a knowing look. Linda sighed, speaking slowly. "I put myself in danger too . . . and if whoever attacked me . . . found out I'm not really dead . . . it would . . . put me in danger again . . . ."  
  
"And if anything happened to you," Jonathan said, "I don't what we would do." He brushed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Honey, you are so important to all of here, and we love you so much."  
  
"I know," Linda replied. She sighed, hesitating. "Daddy?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I'm sorry I don't listen as well as I should . . . I'm just . . . it's just so different being here . . . I want to see everything."  
  
"I know you do," Jonathan replied. "And maybe someday you will. But for now, you need to listen to us, because you're not ready for the world yet . . . you still have a lot of growing up to do."  
  
"When will I grow up?" Linda asked.  
  
"It takes time, Linda." He smiled, leaned over, and kissed her forehead. "But don't rush it . . . everyone grows up in their own time." He smiled. "Besides, you have a wonderful childhood to live . . . and we want you to enjoy every minute of it."  
  
Linda wrinkled her nose, thinking 'You want me to enjoy being ordered around and having homework and chores and having a bedtime and a curfew and rules about how I can dress and who I can spend time with? Are you nuts?'  
  
Jonathan saw her expression and grinned, knowing what his daughter was thinking, even without being a telepath. "It's not all that bad, honey."  
  
Linda smiled, then she snuggled close to her father. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered.  
  
Jonathan squeezed her gently, resting his cheek against her head. "I love you too, sweetie." He held her close as they sat in the silence.  
  
(End of Chapter 17) 


	18. Chapter 18

  
Jonathan gently rubbed the small of Linda's back. She had already relaxed and was drifting off to sleep when Jonathan heard the sound of an approaching vehicle. He furrowed his eyebrows as he sat up straight, startling Linda awake.  
  
"What's going on?" she asked groggily, yawning.  
  
"I'm sorry, sweetie," Jonathan said. He carefully transferred Linda from his lap to the chair next to him and got to his feet, crossing the kitchen in quick strides. He looked out the sink window and saw a gray sports car parked next to the red truck. He tensed when he saw Lex - dressed in black - get out and head up the walk. "Linda, I want you to go upstairs."  
  
"What's wrong?" Linda asked.  
  
"Linda," Jonathan said firmly, "go. Now."  
  
"Yes, sir," Linda replied. She scurried from her chair and scrambled up the stairs, just as Lex knocked on the kitchen door. Jonathan took his time walking over there, stalling a bit. He didn't know why Lex was there, but he knew it couldn't be good. He took a deep breath and put on his best fake smile as he opened the door.  
  
"Why, Lex," he said, feigning being surprised. "What brings you all the way out here?"  
  
Lex furrowed his eyebrows. "How did you know it was me?"  
  
"I was at the sink, and I saw you pulling up," Jonathan replied, trying not to fidget or look nervous. He wanted Lex off his property as soon as possible.  
  
Lex nodded. "Look, I'm sorry to disturb you, Mr. Kent," he replied. "I know now is probably not the best time, considering." Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows, and Lex held up a morning copy of the Ledger. The headline read 'Linda Kent Missing' in large, bold black letters.  
  
"Oh, yes," Jonathan replied somberly. He wanted tempted to ask Lex how he managed to scrounge up a Ledger when he no longer lived in Smallville, but he quickly remembered that Lex had connections.  
  
"Is there anything I can do to help?" Lex asked. "I can assemble a special search team."  
  
"No, thank you," Jonathan replied, keeping his guard up. He didn't trust Lex, and as far as he was concerned, the businessman was a suspect in his daughter's attack; he wasn't putting anything past the man who hated his son and spent every waking moment trying to kill him. He sighed, putting on his best tired and worried expression. "The Smallville police are doing the best they can; we have faith that they'll bring Linda home safely."  
  
"Is Clark here?" Lex asked.  
  
"I'm here, Lex," Clark replied as he walked in from the living room. He was on guard, but he gave the appearance of being happy to see his 'friend.' He glanced at his father, and they shared a private look before Jonathan left the room. Clark looked back at Lex, confused. "What brings you out here on a Sunday, Lex?"  
  
"I was reading the Ledger this morning," Lex replied, "and I was surprised to see the headline about your cousin missing. I'm a little confused as to why this story didn't make the Planet's headlines, especially considering you work there."  
  
Clark shrugged. "Didn't want a bunch of media hanging around, videotaping our every move."  
  
Lex nodded. "Yeah. They might uncover a deep dark secret or two."  
  
Clark raised an eyebrow, trying to look indifferent. He had gotten used to Lex's tone when he talked about secrets, but it still sent a shiver down his spine every time. "So, you came all the way out here just to talk about a missing headline?"  
  
"I wanted to offer my help," Lex replied, "but your father isn't ready to call in the Cavalry just yet."  
  
"That's my dad," Clark replied. The two looked over as Bruce came walking in from the hall, looking at a piece of paper.  
  
"Clark, I wanted -" He looked up and noticed Lex in the kitchen. Bruce's hackles immediately came up, and he nonchalantly folded up the piece of paper. "Lex."  
  
"Bruce," Lex replied coolly. "What brings you here?"  
  
"I could ask you the same question," Bruce said, narrowing his eyes. He and Lex were rivals in the corporate business, but it went deeper for Bruce. Like Clark, Bruce was well aware of Lex's criminal activities, some of which would spill over into Gotham City from time to time. Bruce knew that Lex hated Superman with a vengence, but he had also recently started to consider Batman a threat as well.  
  
"Uh, Bruce is here on personal business," Clark quickly replied, "and we're letting him stay with us."  
  
"What personal business?" Lex asked.  
  
"Personal," Bruce answered curtly.  
  
Lex nodded. He knew Bruce and Clark were friends, and he didn't like it one bit, especially lately when the two had started spending more and more time together, but he put on his best smile. "Sounds interesting," he replied. He turned to Clark. "I hope you find Linda, Clark." He nodded before excusing himself from the kitchen, heading out the front door. Bruce and Clark walked to the kitchen window and watched as Lex got into his car and drove off.  
  
"You think he bought it?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Not sure," Clark answered. "You never know with Lex." He glanced at Bruce. "So, you going to tell me what that 'personal business' is?"  
  
"Later," Bruce replied. He handed over the sheet of paper in his hands. "You might find this interesting. I tracked down the origin of the Kryptonite rock that was tied around Linda's neck." Clark took the paper and unfolded it. "I wasn't able to figure out who it belongs to - yet."  
  
Clark skimmed the paper, then his eyebrows nearly shot off his head. He slowly look up. "Are you serious?" Bruce gave him a look. "Right, you're always serious." He sighed. "That's . . . hard to believe."  
  
"Believe it," Bruce replied. "That piece of Kryptonite was found in an excavation site near the Giza pyramids in Egypt."

* * *

Linda lounged in her room, checking her email. Since she was being confined to the farm for who knows how long, Jonathan had told her that she could use her computer, despite being grounded, as long as she didn't contact any of her friends - including Jimmy. Linda was tempted to send him a quick email, but she didn't want to disobey her father, so she decided she would just check her mail, then do some surfing on Ebay and see what weird things people were selling that day. She opened her Outlook Express and clicked the 'Send/Recv' button, and she smiled when her program downloaded seven new messages. She frowned when she saw the first three were ads for special rates on Viagra, one on a site called 'Bumps and Grinds;' she made a mental note to ask her parents about that later on . . . and about the Viagra too. The last three were from her friends - the most recent one from '**nuttercutter**,' dated an hour ago, complete with an attachment. Linda grinned and clicked it open, reading the message.  
  
_Found the source of that insignia you gave us. It's the logo of a local group called 'The Jags,' mostly of girls from our school, mainly the rich and snobs. Didn't know who would be a suspect - that's up to you. Hope you have more luck in finding the people responsible, and don't worry; we'll keep your status secret from Mattie and Andy. Oh, and Dick's been grounded for sneaking out of the house and coming to the Torch last night, but he's not regretting it.  
  
See you when you rise from the grave,  
  
Cutter  
  
P.S. - Wally wanted me to ask you why Bruce Wayne and Dick Grayson are in town; think you can let us in on that when you come back?_  
  
Linda smiled and clicked on the attachment. It brought up a picture of a group of girls, dressed in familiar dark green jackets. Linda furrowed her eyebrows, knowing three of those girls were most likely responsible for attacking her. She sighed and quickly closed the attachment and her email program, then she shut off her computer. She didn't want to deal with her attackers at the moment.  
  
The young girl walked over to her bed and flopped down, sighing as she turned on her side, facing the door. She closed her eyes, fidgeting, and trying to focus on something pleasant. As she drifted off to sleep she wondered what Jimmy was up to.  
  
The rest of the day went by quietly. Bruce had retired to Linda's loft to finish his work, Dick stayed in the den, and Linda stayed in her room, spending her time drawing, since every once in a while, someone would come by asking if there had been any word on Linda. The Kents were used to keeping secrets, so it wasn't hard convincing everyone about their concern for their daughter's 'disappearance.'

* * *

It wasn't until after dark that things calmed down and people stopped coming. Alfred and Martha had prepared a delectable meal of roasted chicken, steamed corn on the cob, and freshly baked biscuits. Everyone but Linda converged at the dinner table. Bruce had a long printout in his hands, and he read it as he headed to his seat. As he scooted behind Dick he put a hand on the boy's shoulder and squeezed it gently. Dick slowly looked up and saw Bruce smile a bit at him. Dick was a little put off by that, but he relaxed as Bruce took his chair. The Kents and Alfred noticed, and they shared a four-way smile, then Jonathan glanced up at the staircase.  
  
"Linda!" he shouted. "Dinner's ready!" Linda walked down the stairs, with a piece of paper in her hand, looking a little hesitant about joining the others. Jonathan noticed. "What's that in your hand, sweetie?"  
  
"Well," Linda replied slowly as she stopped at the foot of the staircase, "um . . . first of all, promise me you won't get mad."  
  
"Oh, boy, this can't be good," Clark muttered.  
  
Jonathan sighed and glanced at Martha, then he looked back at his daughter. "And why shouldn't we get mad?"  
  
Linda looked sheepish as she held out the piece of paper. "I . . . wasn't completely honest with you," she said slowly. She paused. "I did give Cutter and Wally and Dick information."  
  
"What?" Jonathan asked, frowning as he got to his feet. "You mean, you lied to us?"  
  
"I knew it," Bruce muttered.  
  
"You knew?" Jonathan asked, turning to face the businessman.  
  
"I only saw one of the kids folding a piece of paper behind his back," Bruce replied. "I didn't know what was on it."  
  
"You still failed to tell me, Bruce," Jonathan said angrily. He looked back at his daughter. "What did you give them, Linda?"  
  
"Just a sketch of the insignia," Linda replied.  
  
"I thought you said you couldn't remember the insignia," Martha said.  
  
"It came to me in a flash," Linda replied. "I sketched it down."  
  
"So, let me see if I have this straight," Jonathan replied slowly. "You found out information in your attack, then, instead of telling us about it, you took Dick, and disobeyed us. Then you lied to us about what you did."  
  
"Well," Linda said slowly, her voice dropping about ten octaves, "yeah." She shrank. "Are you going to spank me again?"  
  
Jonathan sighed, frustrated. He was very tempted to take her over his knee again and tan her hide into next year. He looked at her sternly. "It's very tempting, young lady," he replied, "but no, I won't spank you again - if you tell us the truth about what's in your hand."  
  
Linda slowly walked over and hands the piece of paper to her father. "The insignia is the logo of a group called 'The Jags.' It's made up of rich girls from the high school, according to Cutter."  
  
Jonathan looked at the piece of paper, furrowing his eyebrows. "You think one of these girls attacked you?" he asked.  
  
Linda shrugged. "I don't know. I pass most of them in the hall, but we don't talk." She shrugged. "Doesn't someone need a motive?" Clark and Martha had joined Jonathan and looked at the photo.  
  
"You said you don't know most of them," Clark replied. "Who do you know on here?"  
  
"Just Cecilia Brighten," Linda answered, pointing to Cecilia's face on the photo. "And her two friends." She pointed out the other two.  
  
"Brighten?" Bruce asked, furrowing his eyebrows. He looked intently at Linda as he got to his feet. "Are you sure about that?"  
  
"Bruce, what's wrong?" Clark asked.  
  
"Well, I finally tracked down the owner of the Kryptonite," Bruce answered.  
  
"Who is it?" Jonathan asked, frowning slightly, wanting to know who was responsible for hurting his daughter.  
  
"The transaction in Egypt was made in cash," Bruce replied, "so, I lost it there, but I got into the U.S. Customs database."  
  
"What's that?" Linda asked.  
  
"It's a group that tracks and records everything coming into the country," Martha answered.  
  
"Even me?" Linda asked, worriedly.  
  
"Don't worry, Short Stack," Clark replied, "you're not in there." He turned back to Bruce. "So, who is it?"  
  
(End of Chapter 18) 


	19. Chapter 19

  
Monday morning was solemn at Smallville High. The hallways were quiet as students headed to their classes, reading that day's edition of the Torch. The main headline read 'Fellow Student Still Missing' in bold black letters; a smaller headline below read 'Feared Dead,' and Linda's school photo was centered below, with columns of the story flanking both sides.  
  
Buzz wandered into the Torch office, where the rest of the gang was hanging out before first period. Everyone was quiet and solemn, though for Dick, Cutter, and Wally it was just an act. The baseball player sighed as he grabbed a chair and flopped into it. No one spoke for a long time.  
  
"So, what do we do?" Andy asked quietly, tears in her eyes.  
  
"We should go to the Kents'," Buzz replied, "after school."  
  
"I don't want to go to school," Mattie said. "What's the point? Our friend is missing, maybe dead. We should be out there looking for her." She was frustrated at having been turned away by Pete when she offered to help look for Linda the day before.  
  
There was a knock on the door, and everyone looked up as Principal Turner walked in. He looked just as solemn as his students. "I thought I'd find you all in here," he said. He took a deep breath. "Look, I know all of you were Linda's friends. If you want to take the day off, that won't be a problem. Just let me know, and I'll call your parents."  
  
The teens looked at each other, silently deciding what to do. Stay at school and be reminded of Linda, or go home and think about Linda . . . it was a tough decision, but they finally all nodded, coming to the same conclusion.  
  
"We'd like to go home, sir," Dick replied, speaking for his friends. Turner nodded and turned around, leaving. Dick glanced at Wally and Cutter, and he knew they were all thinking the same thing: they felt like crap having to put their friends through hell . . . but it was to keep Linda safe. Dick only hoped that when it was all over that they'd understand why they had kept Linda's well-being a secret.  
  
Lois and Chloe were at Lois' desk working on a story about a local politician's murder when Jimmy came storming up to them. They looked up, surprised to see him there in the first place (it was school time), but more surprised to see the angry look on his face.  
  
"Jimmy," Chloe said, "what are you doing here?"  
  
"Oh, come on, nothing in my life is personal as far as you're concerned - why don't you tell me?" Jimmy asked. "Since you both seem so good at that."  
  
"What are you talking about?" Lois asked.  
  
"I had a little run in with Lucy yesterday," Jimmy replied. "She told me how she found out about me kissing Linda in July: she overheard you two talking about it. And seeing how no one told you about that, the only way you could have figured it out is by snooping around on my computer." He looked directly at Lois.  
  
Lois felt guilty. "Look, Jimmy, I didn't mean -"  
  
"You don't quit, do you?" Jimmy interrupted loudly, causing people to stop and stare. "Everything's a story to you, huh?" He glared at Chloe. "And you couldn't even tell me when you called me Saturday night; you had to lie to me."  
  
Chloe sighed and said, "Jimmy, we're sorry."  
  
"For what?" Jimmy asked. "For causing Lucy to go ballistic and attack Linda? For lying to me? Or are you sorry for getting caught?"  
  
"Now, wait just a minute," Lois frowned, getting to her feet. "Chloe and I made mistakes, and we're sorry, but this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't cheated on Lucy in the first place."  
  
Jimmy chuckled mirthlessly. "I didn't cheat on your sister, Lois. If you had bothered acting like a real reporter by reading the rest of my private letter, you would have gotten the whole story." He briefly paused. "I'd invite you to go snooping around my laptop again, but I need to get to school, so here." He slammed a piece of printout on Lois' desk. "Have a nice day." He stormed away, leaving everyone shocked. Lois eyed Chloe, then she picked up the printout and started reading it as Perry came walking over.  
  
"What was that all about?" he asked.  
  
"Long story," Chloe replied.  
  
Lois' eyes her eyes bulged as she read. "Chloe," she said. "I think I screwed up." She handed the note to her cousin.  
  
Chloe skimmed the note, then her eyes widened. "Yeah," she said slowly. "I think you did . . . and I think I helped."  
  
"Okay, you two," Perry said sternly, "I want to know what's going on. My office. Now." Lois and Chloe glanced at each other uneasily, then they got to their feet and headed towards Perry's office, with the note still in Chloe's hand.

* * *

" . . . and then you would move the mibibi," Linda replied. She and Dick were laying on their stomach on the loft floor. Dick watched as Linda drew different objects on her sketch pad as she explained, like a football coach would diagram a play. "If you cornered your rondor and your weglith, then you won." She looked up, smiling. "And that's how you play Schmigli."  
  
Dick slowly nodded. "Okay," he replied.  
  
"You had no idea what I just said, huh?" Linda asked.  
  
Dick looked sheepish. "Sorry, but it's really all Greek to me."  
  
"Actually, it's Kryptonian," Linda grinned. Dick chuckled.  
  
[Hey, Short Stack, you busy?]  
  
Linda sighed. [What, Clark?]  
  
[Everything okay?]  
  
[I'm fine, Clark.]  
  
[Okay, okay, just checking.]  
  
[Laters.] Linda put up a mental block, then smiled at Dick. "So, do you have any nicknames for Bruce?" she asked.  
  
Dick furrowed his eyebrows. "Um, not really. Why?"  
  
"Clark keeps calling me Short Stack," Linda replied. "And I can't counter with anything. I called him the Jolly Blue Giant, but Daddy didn't think that was too funny, so I stopped."  
  
"Nicknames aren't too bad," Dick replied. "And it sounds like Clark's doing it because he loves you." He smiled sadly. "My mom had a nickname for me."  
  
"What was it?" Linda asked.  
  
"Little Robin," Dick replied, blushing. "I was born on the first day of spring." He glanced over at Linda, and he was surprised she wasn't laughing.  
  
"That's sweet," Linda said, smiling. "I like robins." She shrugged. "I've never seen one in real life, but they're pretty birds."  
  
Dick grinned. "Well, consider this your lucky day, Linda. You can now say you've see a robin."  
  
"Wow," Linda whispered. "Boy . . . wonder what kind of bird I would be."  
  
"You're my little dove."  
  
Linda looked behind her and saw her father and Bruce standing at the top of the stairs; Jonathan was smiling. Linda smiled back as the two teens got to their feet.  
  
"Hi, Daddy," Linda replied. "I'm really your little dove?"  
  
"Always," Jonathan answered.  
  
"Even if I make you mad?" Linda asked cautiously.  
  
"There is nothing you could that would make you stop being my little dove" Jonathan said warmly. Linda walked over and hugged her father around his waist. He put his arms around her and hugged her back.  
  
Bruce glanced at Dick, who looked a little uneasy as he shifted on his feet. He had heard everything Dick had told Linda about his nickname, something that Bruce had never heard about before now. He made a mental note to talk to Dick about that later, when they had some private time; he had a hunch that he wouldn't be forgetting Little Robin any time soon.  
  
"What are you and Dick up to?" Jonathan asked his daughter.  
  
"I was trying to explain Schmigli to Dick," Linda replied. She shrugged. "Didn't have much luck."  
  
Jonathan nodded. "Well, maybe you can tell your mother and me about it later." He cleared his throat. "Uh, right now, Bruce and I need to talk to you about something."  
  
Linda looked worried. "Did I do something?"  
  
"No," Jonathan replied. "It's about your attackers." He glanced at Bruce, then he took a deep breath. "Linda, Bruce has a plan to catch the people who tried to hurt you . . . but he's going to need your help."  
  
"Why me?"  
  
"Because you're the one they wanted," Bruce replied.  
  
"You want to use me as bait?" Linda asked, frowning.  
  
"Not exactly," Bruce answered. "More along the lines of . . . an incentive to turn themselves in." Linda looked very confused, and Bruce sighed when he saw her expression. "Come on, Shorty. We need to talk."  
  
Linda frowned. "Fine, Batsy." Bruce glared. "You don't call me Shorty, I won't call you Batsy."  
  
Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Whatever - Linda." He headed back down the stairs. Jonathan shot Linda a look, and she shrugged.  
  
"Only Clark calls me nick names," she replied. Jonathan chuckled and ruffled her hair as they headed downstairs. Linda glanced back at Dick, silently promising to return.

* * *

Bruce sat in a chair in Principal Turner's office, while the principal sat behind his desk. He tried to appear busy with student papers, but he couldn't concentrate with the businessman sitting across from him. He was still trying to process the fact that the Bruce Wayne was in his office in the first place. There was a knock on the door.  
  
"Yes?" Turner asked.  
  
The door opened, and a thirty-ish woman in a blouse and skirt stood on the other side. "The girls are here," she said. "Just like you requested."  
  
"Thank you, Cynthia," Turner replied. "Send them in."  
  
Cynthia nodded and stood aside, letting a group of teenage girls in the room. Bruce looked them over as they entered. They looked different, but they shared two things: they had an air about them that Bruce could only describe as snobby, and they wore dark green jackets. Bruce could see the insignia on their left sides, but he didn't say anything. Cynthia left, shutting the door behind her.  
  
"Girls," Turner said as he got to his feet, "this is Bruce Wayne." Bruce got to his feet and smiled at the girls. "He's here to talk to you about Linda."  
  
"How do you know Linda?" one of the girls asked.  
  
"I'm friends with her family," Bruce replied. "I know she's the school's mascot, so I figured her friends must be some of the cheerleaders and such." He looked around. "Any of you know her?" No one spoke or moved. Bruce sighed, trying to look serious and solemn at the same time. "Look, I understand that this must be a hard time for all of you, but the Kents are really worried about her. Is there anything you know that could help us find her?"  
  
"Not really," a blonde girl spoke up.  
  
"Who are you?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Cecilia Brighten," the girl replied. "I'm the head cheerleader."  
  
"Do you know Linda?" Bruce asked.  
  
"Yeah, I knew her," Cecilia replied. "We all did."  
  
"Yeah," the red head flanking Cecilia's side, Amy Poland, nodded. "She was very quiet; hardly spoke to any of us."  
  
"Yeah," a brunette, Kristi Robinson, spoke up. "We tried to get her to be more sociable, but she didn't want any of it." She gave an apologetic look. "Sorry, we can't help you, Mister Wayne."  
  
Bruce nodded and sighed. "Thank you, girls. I appreciate your help." He turned and shook Turner's hand. "Thank you for letting me come, Mr. Turner."  
  
"Anything to help find one of my students," Turner replied. He watched Bruce leave his office.  
  
The businessman walked down the empty corridor and to the front exit, where Alfred, dressed in his driver's uniform, was waiting next to the back passenger door of the limo. He opened the door as Bruce approached.  
  
"I assume by that look on your face," Alfred said, "that it was an informative meeting, sir?"  
  
"Very," Bruce replied in a low edgy voice as he got into the limo. Alfred shut the door and walked to the driver's side. He got in, started the engine, and drove off.  
  
(End of Chapter 19) 


	20. Chapter 20

  
Cecilia, Amy, and Kristi leaned against a wall in the alley behind the Smallville Civic Center, lighting up cigarettes, talking and laughing in a small huddled group. They didn't see the small sliver of a black wire loop slip down from the sky, nor did they feel it brush down around their shoulders. All of a sudden, they were yanked off the ground into the sky, the rope tight around them. They struggled and shouted as they were lifted quickly into the ground. They looked down and saw they were almost thirty feet off the ground. They shouted some more as they shifted, trying to get loose.  
  
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," a low voice warned. The trio looked over - and realized they were eye to eye with a dark figure standing on the roof, holding the rope they were caught in. He was dressed simply in a black rubber suit - complete with cowl and cape. He stared at them with a piercing gaze. "Not unless you can fly."  
  
"Batman!" they shouted. The three girls struggled and screamed for help.  
  
Batman put a gloved finger to his lips. "Shh," he said. "You'll wake the dead." He looked to his side briefly.  
  
"Too late." The girls looked over and saw Linda standing next to Batman, arms folded as she frowned at them.  
  
"B-b-b-but, that's impossible!" Cecilia screeched. "You're supposed to be dead!"  
  
"And why would you think that?" Batman asked, bringing the girls closer.  
  
"Uh . . . it said so," Amy said, "in the paper."  
  
"No," Batman replied. "It only said she was feared dead. Now, why did you try to kill her?"  
  
"We're not talking!" Cecilia said. "You can't prove anything!"  
  
"But I can," Batman replied. "Your father owns the meteor rock you tied around Linda's neck. I was able to trace it through U.S. Customs. Also, Bruce Wayne informed me that he spoke with you today. You three referred to Linda in the past tense, while everyone else referred to her in the present tense. Now, why did you try to kill her?" The girls didn't speak. Batman let go of the rope. The girls fell, screaming, but they stopped a foot short of hitting the concrete. They hung motionless for a few moments before being lifted into the air, until they were face to face with Batman once again.  
  
"Ready to talk now?" he growled. The girls were whimpering, close to crying. "Answer the question!!!!"  
  
"Because she beat me!" Cecilia shouted as tears fell down her cheeks.  
  
"At what?" Batman asked.  
  
"At being the mascot," Cecilia replied. "It was supposed to be mine, not hers!" She cried softly. Batman glanced at Linda, and he could see she was horrified and confused by Cecilia's confession.  
  
"You tried to kill me because I beat you out of dressing up in a smelly bird costume?" she asked.  
  
"You certainly didn't deserve it," Cecilia replied. "You don't even belong here; you're not even a true Crow."  
  
"So, does attempted murder make you a true Crow?" Batman asked. "If that's the case, then you three should be able to fly with no problems." He let go of the rope again. The girls screamed as they fell, and they stopped only inches from the cement.  
  
"What do you want from us?" Kristi screamed.  
  
"I want you to confess," Batman replied calmly. "To the sheriff. Tonight."  
  
"What if we don't?" Amy asked.  
  
"Well, if I let you go, and you contemplate trying to hide from me instead of going to Sheriff Ross," Batman answered, "I wouldn't suggest it. I can find lowlifes easily in Gotham. I would have no problem finding three teenage girls in Smallville - or anywhere else. But I'll be very cranky when I do."  
  
"And trust me," Linda replied. "He's much worse when he's cranky."  
  
"We'll go, we'll go!" Cecilia screamed. "We won't run. Promise! Just please don't kill us!"  
  
Bamtna turned to Linda. "They're all yours."  
  
Linda smiled as she jumped off the roof and landed safely on the ground. Cecilia and the others looked up, mouths open, as Linda walked up to them calmly. She raised a hand, and the girls floated to eye level with her, their feet dangling a couple inches off the ground. "I'm taking you to the sheriff," she said. "You're not going to give me any trouble, are you?" Silence. Linda's eyes glowed a fiery orange, and she got into their minds. [Are you?!]  
  
"No, we promise," Cecilia replied, whimpering. It took her a moment to realize Linda hadn't spoken those last words. She would have reacted, but she was too scared.  
  
"Let's go," Linda replied. Still keeping them inches from the ground, Linda telekinetically shoved the trio down the alley. From his perch on the roof, Batman watched with a smile on his lips. There's hope for her yet, he thought as he wrapped his cape around him and disappeared into the shadows.

* * *

The parking lot of the jailhouse was empty, save for a few patrol cars. Linda stopped them just in the shadows of the building, shielding herself behind the trio as they floated above the ground. "Now, you three are going to march in there and tell Sheriff Ross what you did to me," she said.  
  
"What if we don't?" Kristi asked. Linda's eyes glowed orange again. "Okay, okay, we'll tell."  
  
Linda smiled and telekinetically moved them towards the steps leading up to the building. She released her hold on them, and they stumbled when they fell to the ground. They hesitated for a moment as they looked around. They saw a pair of glowing dots a hundred yards away in the shadows, and they glanced at each other before hurrying up the stairs. They stopped short when the door opened for them - without anyone holding it - and the girls lost it. They went screaming into the building, and then door shut behind them.  
  
From her place in the shadows, Linda smiled as her eyes stopped glowing. She knew it was kind of wrong to use her powers like that, but Bruce had told her before they left that no one would believe they claimed to have been caught, threatened, and dangled mid-air by a thin wire wielded by a six-foot talking bat with fish breath, and then allegedly turned themselves in, begging for protection from both the bat and a ghost with glowing eyes and strange powers. Even for Linda, it was laughable, and she knew the truth. Giggling, she turned and blurred away toward her home.

* * *

Jonathan paced the living room as Linda sat on the couch, flanked by Martha and Clark. Bruce, Alfred, and Dick stood nearby, watching.  
  
"I can't believe someone would try to kill someone over a stupid mascot," Jonathan replied.  
  
"I'm stupid?" Linda asked as a hurtful expression crossed her face.  
  
"No, sweetie," Jonathan replied. "You're not stupid. It's just that, compared to your life, it's just something unimportant." He walked over to Bruce and held out his hand. "Thank you for your help, Bruce." Bruce smiled, but he didn't say anything as he shook his hand.  
  
"So, now what?" Clark asked.  
  
"Well, I'll be sticking around for a bit longer," Bruce replied. He eyed Alfred and Dick. "We all will."  
  
"Bruce, are you ever going to tell us why you're here?" Martha asked.  
  
"First," Jonathan spoke up, "I would like Bruce to explain why he felt it was necessary to lie about knowing Cutter and Wally had information on Linda's attackers." He looked at Bruce.  
  
Bruce cleared his throat, looking a little uncomfortable. "Well, to be honest," he said slowly, "I didn't think they actually had anything worthwhile." He saw Linda frowning at him. "No offense, Linda, but all three of you are children."  
  
"I would have thought you'd figure out by now that I'm not someone to underestimate," Linda replied, getting to her feet. "I thought you had actually changed, Bruce. Guess I was wrong." She left the room, heading out the kitchen door.  
  
"Nice going, Bruce," Clark said, frowning as he got to his feet, heading after his cousin.  
  
Bruce sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."  
  
"Maybe not," Jonathan said, "but you insulted her and her friends, Bruce." He sighed. "Why? Do you honestly think that just because they're kids it means they're stupid?" He walked over. "Let me tell you something about those kids: they may do stupid things at times, but they're very intelligent. Don't ever think otherwise about any of them again." He turned and headed after Clark.  
  
"I don't think she's stupid," Bruce said. "Otherwise I wouldn't have come out to see her." Jonathan stopped dead in his tracks. Martha slowly looked up at Bruce, shocked, as Jonathan turned around.  
  
"What are you talking about?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"My personal business," Bruce answered. He paused. "I came out here to see Linda."  
  
Jonathan crossed the room, getting in Bruce's face. "I think you better explain yourself right now."

* * *

Jimmy sat on the edge of the couch in his apartment living room. It was dark, but he hadn't bothered turning on any lights. It didn't matter to him anyway; the last thing he wanted to see was light - or anything remotely cheerful. The front door opened, and light filtered in from the hallway as Mary Olsen stepped in.  
  
The red-head flipped on the switch next to the door, and light flooded the living room. She looked around, confused, then she spotted her son, looking utterly dejected. She sighed and put her jacket, carry-on, briefcase, and purse on the table next to the door, and closed and locked the door. She walked over and sat beside Jimmy.  
  
"Hi," she said. Jimmy said nothing. She sighed. "Well, Vegas went well. Your mother helped convict another criminal."  
  
"That's great, Mom," Jimmy mumbled.  
  
Mary took a deep breath. "Mr. White called me earlier today," she said.  
  
"Great," Jimmy replied as he got to his feet. "Why the hell can't everyone just leave me alone?"  
  
"Because they're worried about you," Mary answered.  
  
"Yeah, Lois must have been really worried about me to go snooping on my laptop. She invaded my privacy, Mom."  
  
"I know," Mary replied. "And she knows what she did was wrong. She left a message on my voice mail, because no one answered here, saying how sorry she was, and that she hopes you'll forgive her. Even Chloe called to apologize for lying to you." She glanced up at her son. "Jimmy, what is going on? Mr. White told me what happened on Saturday between Lucy and Linda, and what happened between you and Lois and Chloe." She got to her feet. "Why didn't you say anything sooner about what happened between you and Lucy?"  
  
"What was I supposed to say, Mom?" Jimmy asked. "That Lucy dumped me on my birthday after I confronted her about cheating on me - with my chemistry partner no less." He sighed, shaking his head.  
  
"Is that why you kissed Linda?" Mary asked.  
  
"I kissed Linda because I liked her," Jimmy answered. "I still do."  
  
Mary was confused. She could read crime scenes like a book, but sometimes she couldn't understand her own son. She knew he had been humiliated by what Lucy did to him (and she was angry at Lucy for hurting her son), but she still couldn't understand why Jimmy hadn't said anything - to anyone.  
  
"Jimmy," she said gently, "I'm sorry about what Lucy did to you, and I know what happened was very embarrassing, but I still wish you would have told me - or someone - about this. Why were you willing to put yourself through so much pain for so long?"  
  
"Because it doesn't really matter," Jimmy replied.  
  
Mary got to her feet and walked over to her son. "Now you wait a minute, James Olsen. If you think that for one second, then I'm very tempted to take you over my knee and set you straight." Jimmy raised an eyebrow, but he didn't say a word. "You do matter - to every one of your friends, but most importantly you matter to me. You are my son, and the last thing I want to see is you hurting." She looked him square in the eye. "I know you've put yourself through a lot since you've known Linda, and some of it I'm still upset about, but do you like her? I mean, do you really like her?"  
  
"Yeah, I do," Jimmy replied, "but you know the Kents won't let me be in the same zip code as her."  
  
Mary smiled. "Let me talk with the Kents, Jimmy." She kissed his forehead and hugged him. "I love you, honey. Now, go to bed. It's late, and you have school in the morning."  
  
In spite of still feeling a little low, Jimmy smiled as he headed off for his bedroom. Part of him was curious about what his mother planned on doing, but the other part of him told him he was better off not knowing. He walked into his room and shut the door behind him.  
  
(End of Chapter 20) 


	21. Chapter 21

- - - -  
  
Linda sat in her art corner of the loft, her easel in front of her. She frowned as she took a bottle of mustard from her containers of paints and squirted it on the easel, then she grabbed a brush and started angrily brushing the mustard all over the easel. Clark sat on the couch and watched her with curiosity.  
  
"Do I even want to know what you're doing?" he asked.  
  
"I'm calling it 'Disgust,'" Linda replied. "You know how much I hate mustard."  
  
Clark nodded. "Okay." He got up and walked over, tilting his head as he stared at the easel. "You know what would work with it?"  
  
"What?" Linda asked as she smeared more mustard on the easel.  
  
"Peas," Clark answered. Linda stopped, then she looked up at him. He shrugged, smiling. "I hate peas."  
  
Linda slowly smiled and shook her head. "I'll think about it," she replied. She glanced over and saw Bruce coming up the loft stairs. Her smile faded, and she turned back to her painting. Clark looked over and saw Bruce, and he almost glared at him, but he saw a sincere apologetic look on the businessman's face.  
  
"Well, I'm going to go scrounge around for some peas," Clark said. He patted Linda's shoulder before leaving, brushing past his friend as he walked down the loft stairs.  
  
Bruce watched Linda work for a few moments before taking a deep breath. "Linda, I'm sorry," he said.  
  
"For?" Linda asked, not looking up as she brushed on the easel.  
  
Bruce walked over, grabbed a chair and sat down beside the young girl. "For thinking you and your friends were stupid," he replied. "That was wrong of me, and I'm sorry."  
  
"Why do you think anyone younger than you is automatically dumb?" Linda asked.  
  
"It's a habit," Bruce answered. "Albeit, not a good one, but it's what I've experienced in my life: most teenagers I've met aren't very good at deduction or investigating." Linda snorted. "That is, until I met you and your friends." Linda looked over. "You're a smart person, Linda, and so are your friends. And because of you, I'm going to reevaluate my assumptions. After all, you know what they say happens when you assume."  
  
"What do they say?" Linda asked.  
  
"They say it's time to hit the hay, Short Stack." The two looked over and saw Clark standing at the top of the stairs, smiling, a bag of frozen peas in his hand.  
  
"Awww, I don't want to go to bed," Linda said, pouting.  
  
"I know, but it's late, and you're cranky when you don't have enough sleep," Clark replied. "But first thing's first." He opened the bag and waited.  
  
Linda stared at the bag, and about a hundred peas floated from the bag. They zoomed at the easel, settling into the mustard in a haphazard pattern. She grinned. "Done."  
  
"Mustard and peas?" Bruce asked, raising an eyebrow. He shook his head. "I don't want to know."  
  
"Wait, it's not done yet," Linda said. She took the mustard bottle and held it up, squirting a small dot onto Bruce's nose. She grinned. "Perfect." She put her tools away and headed for the stairs, kissing Clark's cheek as he tried not to laugh at his friend.  
  
"Oh, Mom and Dad are on the phone," Clark replied. "They'll be up when they're done." He kissed Linda's forehead. "Sleep sweet, kiddo." Linda scampered down the stairs, leaving the men in the loft.  
  
"Don't say a word, Kent," Bruce replied as he grabbed a rag from Linda's supply box and wiped his nose clean.  
  
"Thanks for apologizing," Clark said. "That meant a lot to her, and it means a lot to me."  
  
"Don't go getting mushy on me, Clark."  
  
"Fine, then can I go investigative reporter?" Bruce looked over at Clark. "Mom and Dad told me why you were really here." Clark folded his arms. "Care to fill me in?"  
  
The Talon was filled with its usual before school student crowd the following morning, but the lackluster atmosphere was evident. Even though they had read the Ledger about Cecilia, Amy, and Krisit being arrested, Linda was still considered missing - and everyone was starting to believe that she wouldn't be found alive - if she was ever found at all.  
  
The Scooby gang sat at their usual table, each with a cup of coffee in front of them, but they weren't in the mood to drink. Buzz, Andy, and Mattie were quiet, using all their strengths to not cry, though Mattie and Andy had tears in their eyes. Dick, Cutter, and Wally were subdued as well, but only because they felt like scum for having to lie to their friends about Linda's real condition.  
  
"Excuse me?" The six looked up and saw Bruce standing nearby. He was dressed in a dark suit, with a black trench coat over it, and he looked down at the six with a solemn expression Dick, Cutter, and Wally stiffened, but they didn't give any other indication that they knew Bruce. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I need you to come with me. All six of you."  
  
"Who are you?" Mattie asked, staring at Bruce with a 'I'm in a pd-off mood, so don't bother me unless you have a good reason' look.  
  
"Bruce Wayne," the businessman replied. "I'm a friend of the Kents." He sighed. "The Kents need to talk to you about Linda." The six shared a glance. "Please. They're desperate to find their daughter."  
  
"There's not much we can give them," Andy said.  
  
"Anything you have will be a big help," Bruce replied. "Look, I know this is a bit sudden, but would you please consider it? I'll go get some coffee while you think it over." He headed to the counter, leaving the six to themselves. He saw the two blonde women working at the counter. "Hi, I'd like a -" He stopped when they handed him a tall Styrofoam cup of coffee with a plastic top and a cream cheese muffin on a napkin. "Um, how did you know . . . ."  
  
"Two sugars, no cream," Jackie replied.  
  
"And a cream cheese muffin," Hillary added.  
  
Bruce raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah," he replied slowly. He tilted his head slightly, staring at them. They smiled innocently and winked at him. Bruce furrowed his eyebrows. "Thanks." He started to grab his drink and muffin, then his cell phone rang. He took his phone from his jacket and flipped it open. "Bruce Wayne."  
  
Jackie and Hillary eyed each other as Bruce turned and headed to a more private area. The women walked out from behind the counter and over to the six teens at their table.  
  
"Hey, guys," Hillary said. "How you holding up?"  
  
"Great," Mattie replied sarcastically. "Our friend is still MIA, and now Bruce Wayne wants us to go with him to the Kents'. How are you doing?"  
  
"You know," Jackie said, "all he wants to do his help the Kents find their daughter."  
  
"But we don't know anything," Andy protested. "We have no idea where she could be."  
  
"You sure about that?" Jackie asked. The six looked up at the two women. "Look, why don't you just go with him? Even if you don't know anything, you'll be helping out the Kents a lot. Trust us."  
  
"Besides," Hillary added, "you get to miss one more day of school."  
  
"How did you know about that?" Dick asked. Jackie and Hillary just smiled as they headed back to the counter. Bruce came over, his drink and muffin in hand. He smiled at the group.  
  
"So, what's it going to be?" he asked. The six shot glances at each other, and they shrugged.  
  
"Why not?" Mattie asked as they got to their feet, grabbing their drinks and backpacks. Bruce smiled and headed out of the Talon with the six teens behind him. Outside, the gang came to a sudden halt as they saw the limo parked next to the curb. They watched, open-mouthed, as Bruce walked over and Alfred opened the door.  
  
Bruce stopped and turned. "Come on, kids," he said. "Got a tight schedule to keep." He nodded at Alfred. "Oh, this is Alfred. He's my butler, slash driver. Alfred, meet Mattie, Andy, Buzz, Wally, Dick, and Cutter."  
  
"We're Linda's friends," Cutter replied, "slash classmates." Bruce rolled his eyes as he climbed into the limo.  
  
"Pleasure to meet all of you," Alfred said, nodding. He stood aside as the teens walked over. "You know, as far as kidnappings go, I have to admit that this one in particular is brilliant - no one would ever notice a stretch limo in Smallville" The kids stopped short.  
  
"Alfred, I was saving that for after they were in the car," Bruce said from inside the limo.  
  
"My apologies, Master Bruce," Alfred replied sincerely. He looked at the six with a deadpan expression. Six pairs of eyes widened, then Alfred winked at them, smiling slightly. The group collectively sighed with relief and climbed into the vehicle. Alfred shut the door and headed for the driver's door. Bystanders watched as Alfred got in. After a few moments, the limo pulled away, heading out of town.  
  
The six teens looked uneasily around the farm as Bruce got out of the limo. Usually, they liked coming out to the farm, but now it was different. Three of them believed their friend was dead, and seeing the farm just reminded them of her. The rest of the group knew she wasn't, but it still felt odd being there, knowing their friend was hiding somewhere.  
  
"Mr. And Mrs. Kent are in Linda's loft," Bruce said. "They're doing some work up there, and they asked that you join them."  
  
The six nodded and slowly headed into the barn as Bruce and Alfred hung back. They climbed the stairs and saw Jonathan and Martha sitting on the couch. The Kents looked up when they heard the footsteps. They saw the teens and gave them soft, tired smiles. The six were uncomfortable, and they didn't know what to do or what to say as the adults got to their feet.  
  
"Thank you for coming," Martha said gently. "You don't know how much this means to us."  
  
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Buzz asked.  
  
"You've helped us already," Martha replied. "We know how hard it must have been to come out, being such close friends with Linda."  
  
"Has there been any update on her whereabouts?" Mattie asked.  
  
Jonathan took a ragged breath. "Actually, there has," he replied somberly. "That's why we asked Bruce to bring you here. We wanted you to find out from us instead of the Ledger or someone else."  
  
"What is it?" Andy asked cautiously, not sure if she wanted to hear the news.  
  
"It's something that we're not ready to share with others just yet," Martha replied.  
  
"Imagine that - secrets in Smallville. I never would have guessed." The group of six froze when they recognized the familiar voice. They turned around and saw Linda step out from behind a pile of hay bales, smiling.  
  
"Linda?" Mattie asked in disbelief.  
  
"Yeah, it's me," the young girl replied. The place was silent for a moment, then Mattie, Andy, and Buzz bolted for their friend while the other hung back. Linda was ready for Mattie and Andy as the two girls hugged their best friend tightly, but no one was ready for Buzz. He enveloped the three girls, and the force of his impact caused all four of them to tumble to the floor, laughing. The others watched, smiling. After a few seconds, the four got off the ground, and Linda was suddenly bombarded with questions.  
  
"What happened?" Mattie asked. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine," Linda answered.  
  
Buzz turned to the Kents. "When did you find her?"  
  
Jonathan and Martha glanced at each other, and Jonathan took a deep breath. "We didn't find her, Buzz," he replied.  
  
"Then who did?" Andy asked.  
  
"No one," Martha replied. "Linda was never really missing."  
  
Mattie furrowed her eyebrows. "Then were was she?"  
  
"Actually, I've been here the entire time," Linda answered. She glanced at her parents, and they nodded. "I was attacked by Cecilia and her friends on Friday after the pep rally. They jumped me and tied a meteor rock around my neck, then they threw me into Elbow River. I almost drowned, but Superman saved me." The others nodded, knowing that Superman was a friend of the family through Clark.  
  
"So, why did you pretend to be dead?" Andy asked.  
  
"Because I didn't know at the time who attacked me," Linda replied. "They wore masks, but they also wore jackets with a symbol on them. Cutter and Wally were able to help trace it back, and combined with the information we got from learning who owned the meteor rock, we were able to find out who my attackers were."  
  
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Mattie replied, holding up a hand. She looked at Wally and Cutter. "You two knew she was still alive?"  
  
"That would explain why they didn't come running over earlier," Andy added, frowning. She glanced at Dick. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't come over." Dick looked a little sheepish and shrugged. "You knew too?"  
  
"I was at the Torch Saturday night when Linda stopped by," Dick protested. "She came to see us about the symbol."  
  
"And then Mr. Kent and Mr. Wayne followed her and Dick and threatened us in to silence," Wally added.  
  
"Whoa, wait a minute - our Dick, or another Dick?" Buzz asked.  
  
"Dick Grayson," Linda answered.. "I'll explain later." She sighed. "Look, we're really sorry about putting you guys through this, but it was to find out who attacked me." She put on her best smile. "Forgive me?"  
  
Andy frowned and stuck a finger in Linda's face. "You listen to me, girlfriend - I don't care where we are, or how old we are, or what's goin' on - the next time you die, you better tell me, 'cause if I find out you mess with me like this again, I will find your grave, dig your little white butt up, bring you back to life and kill you again myself!"  
  
"My little white butt thanks you for your concern," Linda said as she rolled her eyes.  
  
"Why don't we all go into the house?" Martha suggested. "Clark and Dick should have finished making breakfast. How do waffles sound?"  
  
"Sounds great, Mrs. Kent," Buzz replied, grinning, "I'm starving." The group of kids hurried down the loft stairs, and the Kents followed behind them with smiles on their faces.  
  
(End of Chapter 21) 


	22. Chapter 22

- - - -  
  
Everyone - Jonathan, Martha, Clark, Linda, Linda's friends, Bruce, Dick, and Alfred - sat around the table, eating waffles topped with maple syrup, fresh strawberries and other fruit from the garden, and lots of whipped cream (for all the teens and Clark) - except for Martha, who enjoyed her waffles with just powdered sugar. They were all talking (mainly the teenagers) and enjoying each other's company when there was a knock at the door. Everyone froze for a second, but the door opened and Pete stuck his head in.  
  
"Anyone home?" He saw the group at the table and smiled. "Hey, there you all are." He came in and shut the door behind him. "I see Linda's back from the dead."  
  
"Not quite, Pete," Jonathan replied, smiling.  
  
"You want to join us for breakfast?" Clark asked.  
  
"Would love to," Pete replied, "but I'm just here to stop by and let you know that Cecilia's arraignment is going to be two days from now."  
  
"You know, I still don't get it," Cutter said. "Why would they confess? They were practically getting away with murder - excuse the pun."  
  
"Guilt," Wally answered. "Plain and simple."  
  
"They don't strike me as the kind to be guilt-ridden," Andy replied.  
  
"They don't strike me as the crazy type either," Mattie said, "but look at what they confessed to seeing: a giant bat and Linda with glowing eyes."  
  
"Well, there is Batman," Dick Malverne replied. The six teens glanced at the Gothamites, wondering if they had ever seen the legendary Dark Knight but not really sure if they should ask  
  
"But why would Batman be in Smallville in the first place?" Cutter asked after a few seconds. "I mean, really, he's got bigger fish to fry than some psycho teenagers." They missed the 'See, told you so' look Bruce gave Jonathan as they continued their debate.  
  
"Yeah," Mattie replied. "Next thing you're going to say is that Linda's got the ability to move things telekinetically and make her eyes glow." She snorted and shook her head. "That is so lame." She glanced at Linda. "No offense, girl."  
  
"None taken," Linda said, trying not to laugh. She glanced at Clark, and he was beet red from suppressing his laughter.  
  
"I don't think it's really important why they confessed," Jonathan spoke up, "as it is that they did confess."  
  
"And on that note," Pete replied," I have to go." He nodded, promising to stop by for dinner later that week, and then left.  
  
"So, when can Linda come back to the land of the living?" Mattie asked.  
  
The Kents looked at each other, then Jonathan smiled. "Well, we were thinking about letting her return to her life tomorrow," Jonathan replied.  
  
"So, when do you think we should have the party?" Andy asked.  
  
"Party?" Martha asked.  
  
"Yeah," Andy replied. "Gotta have a resurrection party for Linda." She turned to Mattie. "We should have it at the Talon after school Thursday. Get Jackie and Hillary to help." She glanced at the Kents. "Um, if that's okay with you."  
  
The Kents shared a private look and smiled, nodding. "Actually," Martha replied, "maybe you should ask Linda if it's okay."  
  
"Why me?" Linda asked.  
  
"Well, it would be your party," Jonathan replied.  
  
"My own party?" Linda asked. She had never had her own party before . . . ever. Her eyes misted over. "Wow . . . I . . . I don't know what to say."  
  
Mattie leaned over and hugged Linda with one arm. "Oh, come on, girlfriend," she said. "You deserve it. And we haven't had a real party since school started. So, whaddya say?"  
  
Linda took a deep breath, contemplating everything. After a few moments, she shrugged and smiled. "Why not?" she asked. Mattie and Andy whooped and high-fived each other, then went back to eating. Soon, everyone else was eating, but Linda's mind was still thinking about what her friends had in store for her in two days. She just hoped it would be a night she wouldn't forget.  
  
Just as planned Linda was allowed to return to school the following day. The Kent family was a little worried that there would be retaliation from Cecilia's friends, and there were some people who weren't too thrilled to see Linda alive and well, but for the most part, the student body welcomed back their mascot with open arms.  
  
The day went smoothly, and Linda returned to her after school activities, even stopping by the Talon with her friends after school. Jackie and Hillary said it was okay for Linda to have her party there - before they were even asked about it, effectively weirding out the entire group. After spending some time talking, planning, and just hanging, Linda was escorted (by her friends' insistence) back to the farm.  
  
Thursday came quickly, and proceeded normally. The only thing odd about it was the Kents' behavior. Linda noticed they were acting strange from the moment she woke up, sharing private glances and smiles, and just watching their daughter for no apparent reason. Linda chalked it up to being an adult and pushed it from her mind as she headed off to school.  
  
After school, since there was no practice that day, Linda was ordered home by Mattie and Andy to get ready for the party. She went quietly, but as soon as she arrived home, the young girl became fidgety. She was told by everyone that she was free from her chores to rest until the party, but Linda wasn't thrilled with that at all - and she made sure the entire household knew it. She paced the house, complaining about how bored she was, until finally Alfred took control of the situation and made two cups of tea before leading Linda outside to sit on the porch swing.  
  
"Why won't they let me do the chores?" Linda asked in a slightly whiny voice. "I want to do something."  
  
"You're resting, my dear," Alfred replied calmly. After years of listening to Bruce and his whines, listening to a teenage girl wasn't quite so troublesome. "You are the guest of honor at tonight's party. It's important that you are not tired."  
  
"I don't think chores will tire me out," Linda replied.  
  
"Nevertheless, you have been instructed to rest, and you must adhere to your parents' wishes."  
  
Linda snorted before taking a sip of her tea, but she didn't say anything. She knew Alfred was right; didn't mean she had to admit it. She leaned back and thought for a moment, then she turned to the butler. "What was Bruce like before his parents died?"  
  
"I think that is something you should ask Master Bruce," Alfred replied. "He may answer, he may not, but that is a question you should direct at him."  
  
"What were you like as a kid?" Linda asked. "That must have been a long time ago." Alfred just glanced over at her, eyebrow raised. "Okay, fine, nevermind. Is there a subject we can talk about?"  
  
Alfred smiled. "Why don't we let the world talk for us for a change?" He stared straight ahead, sipping his tea, just watching and listening to nature. It was Linda's turn to raise an eyebrow at him, but she didn't say a word. She knew what he was implying, so she leaned back and sipped her tea, letting the sounds of the world be the only noise they heard.  
  
"Don't put it there!" Mattie screeched. Wally, startled, nearly dropped the corner of the banner he held - and he nearly fell off the stepstool he stood on, but Buzz was standing right near him and righted his friend. Dick stood on another stepstool, holding the other end of the banner up.  
  
"Don't scare me like that, Mattie!" Wally frowned.  
  
"Well, don't be hanging the banner crooked!" Mattie replied. She was proud of the work she and Andy did - the big purple and silver letters screaming 'Welcome Back, Linda!' - and the last thing she wanted was to have it hanging at an angle.  
  
"Okay, you two, settle down," Hillary replied as she came out of the back room, her arms loaded with purple and silver streamers. Mattie and Cutter immediately relieved her of them and started hanging them around the clusters of balloons already adorning the ceiling.  
  
"Yeah, we only got a few hours left," Andy replied as she busied herself with arranging the food on the table near the counter. "So, knock it off." Wally and Mattie glanced at each other, then they both stuck their tongues out at their friend when her back was turned.  
  
Hillary stood on the other side of the counter and tried her best not to laugh as smiled as Jackie came out with stacks of paper plates and silverware. She saw her co-owner's expression and walked over after depositing her load on the counter.  
  
"So, how it's coming?" she asked Hillary quietly.  
  
"They haven't killed each other yet," Hillary replied. Jackie chuckled as she watched the six. They were more than thrilled to let the teens have their party at the Talon and even closed the place early so the kids could do do the decorating, under the condition that Jackie and Hillary would supervise the party - along with a few more adults. The teens agreed, knowing that while the owners of the Talon were a bit eccentric, they were harmless - for the most part.  
  
"Dick?" Everyone looked over as Grey Malverne walked in. He was dressed warmly, since the weather was still cold, and he held a small brown paper bag. He stopped, looking worried when he saw his son standing on a stepstool. "Dick, what are you doing up there?"  
  
"Hanging a banner, Dad," Dick replied. He secured his side on the column then climbed down. He walked over. "What's up?"  
  
"You forgot" he glanced quickly at the others then back at Dick "your stuff."  
  
"I was going to deal with it when I got home," Dick protested.  
  
"No, you will deal with it now, son," Grey said in a tone that Dick knew better than to argue with. "Otherwise, you can forget coming to the party."  
  
Dick sighed. "Okay, okay," he replied as he took the bag. He saw the stern look his father gave him. "I mean, yes, sir."  
  
Grey smiled and nodded, even though he had a slightly worried expression on his face. He looked around, admiring the decorations. "Wow. You've all done a great job." He glanced back at Dick. "You want me to stay and give you a lift home?"  
  
Dick shook his head quickly. "I'm fine, Dad." He saw his father staring at him. "Honest."  
  
Grey took a deep breath and smiled, nodding. "Okay. I'll see you back at home." He was tempted to hug his son, but he didn't want to embarrass him, so he simply squeezed Dick's shoulder gently before leaving.  
  
"So, what's in the bag?" Cutter asked as the rest of the group descended on Dick.  
  
"Nothing," Dick replied, slightly annoyed as he clutched the bag close to him.  
  
"Come on, Dick," Mattie said. "Give."  
  
"No," Dick snapped angrily. "It's none of your business, so leave me alone." He hurried towards the restrooms. Jackie and Hillary watched Dick with concern, while everyone else was left in a silent shock.  
  
(End of Chapter 22) 


	23. Chapter 23

- - - -  
  
Main street was deserted that night as Linda ran at full speed towards the Talon. She was told to arrive at eight o'clock, thirty minutes later than everyone else, since she was the guest of honor. Normally, she had no problem with being punctual, but she had spent so much time trying to decide what to wear. She finally chose a black pair of pants, matching flats, a purple blouse, and pulled her hair into a braid, decorating it with a purple bow, before heading out of the house towards town. She wasn't worried at being seen, and within seconds she stopped in front of the main entrance to the Talon.  
  
'Welcome Back, Linda' was spelled out in the brightly lit marquee, causing Linda to smile. She forced herself not to cry - especially since she was wearing non-waterproof makeup - as she pushed her glasses up on her nose. She made certain she wasn't disheveled before walking to the front door, totally unaware that a person stood across the street in the shadows - following her every move.  
  
As soon as she stepped inside, the entire place erupted into cheers as people started clapping, whooping, and hollering. Linda knew to expect somewhat of a fanfare, but she didn't think it would be anything like what she was seeing. The decorations were gorgeous, the banner was beautiful, and all her friends and family were there to share in the festivities. She couldn't help but cry a little as her family and friends descended on her.  
  
"You okay, Short Stack?" Clark asked.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine," Linda replied. She dabbed her tears away with her fingers and smiled, chuckling. "Wow, this is . . . wow."  
  
"You deserve it," Mattie replied. She smiled sweetly at Linda's family, then she grabbed Linda's arm and pulled her away. The rest of the teens followed the girls, leaving Kents, Clark, and Alfred (Bruce had stayed home to work, but Dick and Alfred came in his place) behind.  
  
"So, what do we do now?" Clark asked as the adults watched the teens mingle. He glanced around. "Um, wait, we're missing someone." He glanced worriedly at his parents.  
  
"Don't worry," Jackie said as she and Hillary walked up to the group. "Things aren't always what they first appear to be, Clark."  
  
"And if you really need something to do," Hillary added, "then we could always use a hand at the food table." She smiled.  
  
Clark chuckled. "Sure thing." He headed off with Jackie and Hillary, leaving the rest behind.  
  
"Is it me or do those two remind me of fortune cookies?" Martha asked.  
  
"Does it matter?" Jonathan replied. He listened to the music coming from the sound system, then he held out his hand, smiling. "I know the music isn't quite to your liking, Mrs. Kent, but would you care to dance?" Martha silently accepted, taking his hand, and soon the two adults were dancing with other teens who had taken it upon themselves to hit the floor, leaving Alfred to his own devices. He didn't feel the least bit offended at being left alone as he went over to the food table to make himself useful.  
  
"So, is this going to be weird for anyone?" Cutter asked. The eight of them, including Dick Grayson, were huddled off to one side of the room, and the two Dicks were eyeing each other.  
  
"I'm cool," Dick Grayson replied.  
  
"Same here," Dick Malverne added.  
  
"Good," Andy said, "because it's time to get down to some serious partying!"  
  
"Mind if I join in?" The eight looked over as a brown-haired boy walked over, smiling.  
  
"Jimmy?" Linda asked, her eyebrows nearly shooting off her head.  
  
Jimmy continued to grin. "Yeah, it's me, in the flesh."  
  
Linda furrowed her eyebrows. "What are you doing here?" she said, grabbing his arm, pulling him closer, trying to hide him from her parents. "You're not supposed to be here."  
  
"There you are," Jonathan said as he walked over, smiling. He put an arm around Jimmy's shoulders. "We were starting to wonder where you were."  
  
Jimmy smiled tightly, avoiding eye contact with the farmer. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that, sir," he said softly as he looked down. "Ran late today."  
  
"Don't worry about it, son," Jonathan replied, patting Jimmy's shoulder. He smiled at his daughter's confused expression. "Have a good time, sweetie. We'll be with Clark if you need anything." He winked as he left the group.  
  
Linda followed him as he walked over to the table, and Clark caught her eye. He smiled and winked at his baby cousin. The young girl was touched, knowing her family had somehow arranged to have Jimmy there (even though she didn't know how), knowing it was something she really wanted, just for the sole purpose of seeing her smile. She had to take a deep breath to keep her composure before turning back to face Jimmy. Her heart skipped a beat when she finally got a good look at him. He was dressed in a midnight blue polo shirt, khaki slacks, and tan hiking boots that were in very good condition but not recently bought.  
  
"You okay?" Jimmy asked, tilting his head slightly as he stared at her with concern radiating from his brown eyes.  
  
"Uh, yeah," Linda replied slowly. She smiled as she hugged him around his neck, not realizing how much she had missed him until he was hugging her back. She pulled back and locked eyes with him, and the two just stopped and stared at each other. It was as if the world around them disappeared - briefly. The sound of a loud throat clearing brought them back to reality, and the two looked over to see the others staring at them.  
  
"Look who finally decided to come back down to Earth," Mattie smirked at her friend. "Now she can introduce us to Mystery Man." The two teens pulled away, embarrassed, and Linda smiled sheepishly as she blushed.  
  
"Sorry," Linda said. "Guys, this is Jimmy Olsen. Jimmy, this is the gang." She nodded at the Gothamite. "And this is Dick Grayson."  
  
"Hi," Jimmy said, nodding. He recognized Dick from the cave incident a few months ago, Cutter and Wally from his last encounter at the school, and he quickly deduced who the rest of the Smallville teens were. Recognizing Dick Grayson was a piece of cake, since his photo had been plastered over front pages months ago after his parents were killed. Jimmy wondered why he was in Smallville in the first place, but he'd ask later; he was there for another reason.  
  
"Ah, so, you're Jimmy," Mattie said. "Linda's mentioned you a few times."  
  
"Really?" Jimmy asked, blushing. He rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed.  
  
"Don't worry," Andy replied. "It was all good." She winked at Jimmy, letting him know he was safe.  
  
Jimmy smiled at Linda, and her cheeks turned red as she looked away, embarrassed herself. She was really cute when she blushed, and Jimmy had to mentally shake himself from that stupor, reminding himself of why he was really there. "Um, do you guys mind if I borrow Linda for a while?"  
  
"Nope," Dick Grayson replied. He had seen how the two were looking at each other, and it didn't take a genius to figure them out. "Don't mind one bit." He smiled as Jimmy took Linda's hand and led her over to where the other students were dancing to the music. As the two started dancing, Dick turned back to the others. "So, how about this weather?"  
  
The music had changed from loud and blaring to a slow dance, and Jimmy pulled Linda close to him, holding one of her hands in his and wrapping his other arm around her waist. The two stayed in pretty much the same area as they swayed slowly to the beat. For a few moments, neither of them said a word as they just stared at each other.  
  
"I'm glad you came," Linda said softly.  
  
"Yeah," Jimmy replied. "Me too."  
  
"So, how did you manage to convince my parents and Clark to let you come?" Linda asked.  
  
"Actually," Jimmy answered slowly, "my mother did."  
  
Linda tilted her head. "Really? I didn't think she liked me that much for all the trouble I got you into."  
  
"Now, wait. My stupidity and I have to take some of the credit."  
  
"You're not stupid, Jimmy. A little weird at times . . . ."  
  
Jimmy chuckled. "Thanks." His smile faded. "Hey, uh, can I ask you something?"  
  
"Of course," Linda replied.  
  
"Do you trust me?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Of course I do," Linda answered. She tilted her head. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Not much," Jimmy replied. "I've just had my trust tested a lot lately, and I know we haven't really spent a lot of time together, so I just want to make sure we're cool."  
  
Linda smiled. "You're the first friend I made since I moved here. I trust you with my life, Jimmy; I feel like I can really confide in you."  
  
"Really?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Really," Linda replied. They stopped dancing, and she furrowed her eyebrows, knowing something was up, but not quite sure what exactly "Jimmy, what's this really about?"  
  
Jimmy looked up and around thoughtfully, then he lightly took one of Linda's hands. "Come with me?" he asked softly.  
  
The young girl was a little confused by Jimmy's behavior, but she was also curious. She nodded, and Jimmy led her through the crowded room. Clark nudged his parents, and the Kents looked up as Jimmy and Linda headed out the front door. They glanced at each other, slowly smiling.  
  
The air had a definite chill in it, but neither Linda nor Jimmy felt it as they slowly walked down the deserted sidewalk. Linda glanced sideways at Jimmy, tempted to find out what was going inside his mind, but she was concentrating more on her own heart as it pounded in her chest. They walked in silence for about half a block before Jimmy stopped. Before Linda could even react, Jimmy turned to her.  
  
"Linda, there's something I've been wanting to do for a long time now," he said, looking in her eyes. Linda didn't have time to ask what it was as Jimmy gently grasped her shoulders and pulled her close to him, leaning over and kissing her full upon the lips.  
  
The young girl was startled at first, but she quickly succumbed to the kiss as she relaxed under Jimmy's touch. She closed her eyes, remembering the first kiss they shared in her loft, and how even back then he held a special place in her heart. It felt so good being in that moment with him after wanting it for so long, but then she remembered something - something horrible - and she quickly pulled away.  
  
"No," she whispered. "We can't do this."  
  
"Why not?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Because of Lucy," Linda replied as her eyes welled up with tears. "Remember her? Your girlfriend."  
  
Jimmy sighed and looked down. "She's not my girlfriend." He glanced up. "Not anymore."  
  
Linda furrowed her eyebrows, then her eyes widened with fear. "It's because of me, right?" she asked. "Because of what happened on Saturday."  
  
"No," Jimmy replied. "Linda, it wasn't your fault. Lucy and I broke up a long time ago." He shrugged. "Actually, she broke up with me - on my birthday."  
  
"Why?" Linda asked.  
  
"Because I found out she was seeing my chemistry partner at the same time she was seeing me," Jimmy answered. "I confronted her about it, and she said she didn't want to see me anymore."  
  
"But you didn't do anything wrong," Linda said.  
  
"That's Lucy for you," Jimmy replied, slightly bitter. "She tries to blame everyone but herself for her screw ups. She even blamed me for her black eye."  
  
"I didn't mean to hit her," Linda said. "She just made me so angry."  
  
"She has a tendency to do that," Jimmy replied wryly. His expression became serious. "I'm sorry you got in the middle of it."  
  
"It's okay," Linda said. She stopped and furrowed her eyebrows. "But if we kissed after she broke up with you, then why would she even care?"  
  
Jimmy shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "And I don't really care myself." He put his arms around Linda's waist and pulled her close. "The only thing I care about right now is being with you."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?" Linda asked softly. "Why did you make me believe you were still seeing her?"  
  
Jimmy sighed. "I guess I was a little embarrassed." He looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry, Linda. I didn't mean to hurt you."  
  
Linda reached up, touching Jimmy's cheek with the back of her hand. "It doesn't matter now. All that matters is that we're being honest with each other. Right?"  
  
Jimmy smiled. "Right." He leaned over and kissed her again. "Completely honest," he replied softly as they continued to kiss.  
  
Linda smiled, then her eyes flew open when she realized exactly what Jimmy just said. He wanted her to be honest with him - about everything. But she had been told that she could never tell him the truth about who she really was. She pulled away from him, backing up a few steps.  
  
"Linda, what's wrong," Jimmy asked, concern all over his face.  
  
"I can't," Linda whispered as tears filled her eyes. "Jimmy, we can't be together."  
  
"Why not?" Jimmy asked.  
  
"Because I can't be honest with you," Linda replied. "Not the way you want me to." She turned and headed back towards the Talon, but Jimmy grabbed her arm, stopping her.  
  
"Linda, I wasted three months not being with you because I wasn't completely honest with you," he said. "And believe me, it wasn't easy for me to tell you that, but I did, because I want us to be together." He turned her around, looking her right in the eyes. "Whatever you're hiding, I can handle it."  
  
"No, you can't," Linda replied. "Believe me, if you knew, you'd never want to see me again." She jerked her arm free and turned.  
  
"You're wrong," Jimmy said as she started walking away.  
  
Linda stopped and turned around. "Why?" she asked as she walked back over to him. "Give me one good reason why I'm wrong."  
  
Jimmy looked right into her eyes. "Because I already know," he replied softly.  
  
(End of Chapter 23) 


	24. Chapter 24

- - - -  
  
Bruce sighed as he sat at the kitchen table. As much as he liked the solitary quiet, there were times when he had become accustomed to having some background noise, especially while staying at the Kents', more so now that they had a teenage girl living with them. Never had Bruce understood why parents dreaded having teenage girls around until he had been around Linda - she was noisy. He groaned, remembering earlier that day when he had given her his utility belt, hoping it would shut her up . . . and she had managed to crack the lock he had installed to keep others from prying. He had (silently) been impressed that she managed to crack it in the first place, but still annoyed that a teenage girl - alien or not - had beat him at his own game (he had hoped she would be stumped, give up, and leave him alone). It didn't help that Alfred had pointed out that he got what he deserved by trying to trick her.  
  
The businessman felt something lightly touching his foot, and he looked down. Krypto and Streaky were both looking up at him, demanding with their big eyes that he play with them - now. He shook his head and waved his hands. "Not now," he replied. But the pets wouldn't be undaunted by his demeanor. Streaky jumped onto the table - right onto Bruce's laptop, hitting the power button with one of her paws, shutting the computer off. "Hey!" Krypto took matters into his own hands and gently grabbed the cuff of Bruce's pant let, pulling it gently, growling. "Come on, guys, I got work to do!"  
  
Streaky gently reached up and batted Bruce's nose without using her claws, then she meowed. Krypto got up on his hind legs and whined loudly. Bruce looked down, right into those puppy eyes - and he was gone. He slowly smiled and sighed. "Fine," he replied, rolling his eyes. He picked up Streaky and held her under one arm, picked up Krypto, holding him the same way under his other arm, and headed toward the living room. "But no one will ever know about this, okay? I have work I need to get back to soon." The pets voiced their response as they squirmed under Bruce's arms.  
  
Linda was speechless, her mouth open slightly, her eyes wide as she stared at Jimmy. She wasn't sure if she had heard him correctly, but what could she do? What should she say? She took a deep breath and tried to look cool. "Know what?" she asked nonchalantly.  
  
Jimmy sighed and walked over, stopping in front of Linda. He stood with most of his weight on his right foot, his left foot a few inches farther forward, his arms across his chest, casually resting his hands on his elbows. "What do you think?" he asked seriously.  
  
Linda stared at him for a few moments, then she knew what he was talking about. She slowly closed her eyes. Part of her was glad that she wouldn't have to lie to him anymore, but part of her was scared. She didn't know how Jimmy had found out, but she knew it was probably her fault; her parents and Clark were going to be mad at her. She felt tears welling up in her eyes as she turned her head to the side, feeling very small and vulnerable.  
  
Jimmy sighed. He wanted to take Linda in his arms and comfort her, but not right away. He was hurt and angry, and getting that out was the first thing he needed to do. "Linda, please stop crying," he said, his voice serious. "We need to talk, and I can't talk to you like this."  
  
"I can't help it," Linda replied tearfully. Jimmy took a deep breath and pulled her to him. As angry as he was, his first priority was to protect her. He hugged her briefly before pulling away. Linda sniffled, but her tears slowly subsided. She looked up at Jimmy. "Are you mad at me?"  
  
"Yeah," Jimmy replied. "I am."  
  
"Why?" Linda asked. "Because I kept this from you?"  
  
"You weren't honest with me," Jimmy answered. "From the moment I met you, you weren't honest with me."  
  
"I barely knew you," Linda protested. "What, I'm supposed to tell my secrets to a stranger?"  
  
"No, of course not," Jimmy replied. "But you can't expect me to be okay at being lied to."  
  
"It wasn't my fault," Linda said. "It wasn't even my idea. It was my parents' and Clark's."  
  
"So what?" Jimmy asked. "You still did it." He sighed and crossed his arms. "Look, I'm not totally mad at you. I'm mad at them too."  
  
"Because they lied to you too?" Linda asked.  
  
"Because of that and a lot of other things," Jimmy replied.  
  
"What other things?" Linda asked.  
  
Jimmy shook his head. "It doesn't matter. It's not important."  
  
"It is to me," Linda said softly. "What other things, Jimmy?" She reached up and touched his cheek. "Jimmy, you want us to be honest with each other."  
  
Jimmy closed his eyes, almost melting under her touch, but he couldn't. Not now. He gently grasped her wrist and pulled Linda's hand from his face. "I can't do this."  
  
"Do what?" Linda asked.  
  
"This," Jimmy answered. "Talk with you. I thought I could, but I can't. Not now."  
  
Linda's eyes welled up with tears. "Jimmy, please, don't do this."  
  
Jimmy sighed. "Linda, we're both a little high-strung right now. I can't talk to you like this."  
  
"But -"  
  
"No buts, Linda," Jimmy interrupted. "I think . . . I think it would be best if we both just kinda kept our distance from each other - for now." A tear slipped down Linda's cheek, and he brushed it away gently. "Do you want a lift back home?"  
  
Linda shook her head slowly. "No," she replied softly. She was hurt and angry, and she really just wanted to be alone at the moment. "What about you?"  
  
"I'll manage," Jimmy replied, shrugging.  
  
Linda nodded slowly, then she blurred away, leaving Jimmy alone on the sidewalk. The young photographer stood there in a daze, half from shock at seeing Linda speed away as quickly as she did, and half from the fact that she had just left him there. He knew she was hurting and angry, but it still hurt. Sighing, he headed off to the Talon parking lot, unaware of the pair of eyes following him from the shadows across the street.  
  
Elaine Patterson was curled up in a chair in her living room, dress in a pair of sweat pants, a loose t-shirt, and a pair of fuzzy white socks. She was reading a murder mystery novel, the only light coming from a floor lamp behind her and the firelight from the flames in the fireplace. A cup of hot cocoa sat on the end table beside her chair. She just finished the chapter when she heard a knock at her front door. She placed her bookmark in the book and put the book on the end table before getting up. She padded to the front door and looked through the peephole. She smiled when she recognized the person standing on her porch and opened the door.  
  
"Hey," she said. "I see you got my message."  
  
"Actually, I was just in the neighborhood," the visitor replied, smiling back, "and I thought I'd drop by."  
  
Elaine chuckled and stepped out onto the porch to hug her friend. "Yeah, right. Oh, it is good to see you. It's been a long time."  
  
"Yes, it has."  
  
Elaine headed back into her house, beckoning. "Come on in. You want some hot cocoa?"  
  
"I'd love some," the person said, following her inside, shutting the door behind them.  
  
Linda blurred into the barn, up the loft steps, and stopped near the couch. She would have gone into the house, but the last thing she wanted was to be around Bruce. She tried to keep from crying, but she couldn't help it. She was angry and hurt and confused. She stood, trembling, her hands at her sides, as she cried, her head down.  
  
After a few moments she looked up, thinking, then she marched over to where she left her sketchpad and flipped through it. She stopped when she found the sketch she wanted - the portrait of Jimmy - and she tore it out then tossed the sketchpad aside. She stared at the sketch wistfully for a few moments - and then she tore it in half. She let the two pieces float to her feet before marching over to the couch and flopping down, dissolving into tears as she lay down and curled on her side, crying herself to sleep.  
  
A red and blue blur streaked into the barn, and Superman landed quietly on the loft. He looked around and spotted Linda curled up on the ratty couch. The hero breathed a sigh of relief, saying a silent thank you before spinning in a circle, changing into his civilian clothes. He headed over to the couch, but he stopped short when he saw two pieces of paper on the floor. He leaned over and picked up one of the pieces, and he furrowed his eyebrows when he recognized the subject of the sketch. He looked over at his cousin and saw the tear streaks on her cheeks. He sighed as he picked up the other piece of paper and put both pieces on the desk before walking over to the couch. He knelt beside the couch and watched Linda as she slept.  
  
"What happened, sweetie?" he asked softly. After a few moments he got to his feet and gently picked Linda up in his arms. He carefully shifted her until she was curled into him, then he carefully headed down the loft steps.  
  
(End of Chapter 24) 


	25. Chapter 25

- - - -  
  
The next morning, Jonathan and Martha sat around the kitchen table, drinking coffee, while Clark worked out in the barn. Bruce, Dick, and Alfred were still sound asleep, so the Kents talked in low voices about what Clark had discovered last night when he found Linda in the loft.  
  
"Martha, I'm not going to sit by and do nothing," Jonathan said.  
  
"Jonathan, we don't even know what happened," Martha replied.  
  
"You know how Clark found Linda in the loft," Jonathan said. "Whatever happened, it wasn't good, and I think we have every right to know about it."  
  
They heard footsteps, and they looked over as Linda came down the stairs, fully dressed, her backpack slung over her shoulders. "Morning," she said. She stopped short when she saw her parents watching her. "What?"  
  
"Linda, can we talk to you for a moment?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"Sure," Linda replied slowly. She came over to the table and sat down, setting her backpack aside. "What's up?"  
  
"Is there anything you want to talk about?" Martha asked. "Anything at all?"  
  
"No," Linda replied. "I'm fine."  
  
Jonathan sighed. "Linda, we know something happened between you and Jimmy last night," he said abruptly. "Why don't you fill us in?"  
  
Linda's face darkened and she grabbed her backpack as she got to her feet. "I gotta get to school," she said as she headed for the door.  
  
"Linda, wait, please," Martha said. "We want to help. What happened last night?"  
  
Linda stopped. She wanted to tell them the truth, but they were part of the problem. Jimmy was mad at them, and Linda - even though she didn't know why exactly - was mad at them. She sighed. "Jimmy and I had a fight, okay?"  
  
"About what?" Jonathan asked.  
  
"About something that's between us," Linda replied.  
  
"Linda, I don't like that tone of voice," Jonathan said as he got to his feet. "Now what did you two fight about?"  
  
Linda sighed. "Look, under any other circumstances I would gladly tell you, but not this time. Not now, anyway. Please, just stay out of this." She waited silently for her parents' reactions.  
  
Jonathan was ready to let loose with a long lecture about honesty, but then Martha reached out and touched her husband's arm. Jonathan looked down and saw Martha giving him that look. He sighed, knowing what it meant. He nodded and looked back at Linda. "Fine," he said. "We'll let it go - for now."  
  
"But if you want to talk," Martha added as she stood up, "you know we're here, honey." Linda nodded and headed out the kitchen door. Jonathan sighed and looked at his wife.  
  
"Please tell me that was a good idea," he said.  
  
"Jonathan, I know you want to help Linda. I do too, but we can't automatically step in to fix every problem she has." She took a deep breath. "Just let her try, okay?"  
  
Jonathan hesitated. He didn't like it, but he knew Martha was right. He sighed and slowly nodded, putting a hand around Martha's shoulder, kissing her softly.  
  
It was a school holiday, so Jimmy was spending the day at the Daily Planet. He sat at his desk, doing some paperwork for Perry, but his mind was only half focused. He kept thinking about Linda, about what had happened the night before . . . how angry and hurt he knew Linda was with him. Part of him felt like slime for doing that to her, but she had lied to him. He couldn't sit by and be happy with that.  
  
"Jimmy." Jimmy looked up and saw Clark heading over to him, looking serious. He stopped in front of Jimmy's desk and leaned forward, resting his knuckles on the desk. "We need to talk."  
  
Jimmy sighed. "I'm a little busy, Clark," he said, looking back at his work.  
  
"I don't care," Clark replied. "I want to know what happened between you and Linda last night."  
  
"What happened last night was between us," Jimmy replied. "Leave it at that."  
  
"Not when I find my baby cousin curled up on a couch after crying herself to sleep," Clark said. "She won't tell me or our parents what happened. Now talk."  
  
Jimmy chuckled mirthlessly as he got to his feet. "Sorry, Kent," he said calmly, trying not to raise his voice, "that's on a need to know basis, and I've decided that you don't need to know."  
  
Clark narrowed his eyes and stood straight. "Jimmy, that's not fair . . . ."  
  
"Yeah, you think?" Jimmy retorted. He spread arms as he walked around his desk, facing Clark the entire time. "Well, welcome to my world. Now, if you don't mind, I got work to do." Camera bag in hand, he turned and strode away, leaving Clark standing at the young photographer's desk, speechless.  
  
Inspector Henderson furrowed his eyebrows from behind a pair of sunglasses as he stared at the crime scene before him. The victim, a local city board member named Harris Wilson, lay face down on the sidewalk in front of City Hall in a puddle of blood. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary for the inspector, except for the pinwheel Wilson clutched in his right hand. Henderson wasn't sure what to make of the toy, but one thing was for sure: he hated uncertainties. He watched for a few moments as uniformed officers started securing the scene, then he glanced behind his shoulder when he saw the hub of reporters slowly flocking behind the police tape, and he sighed. He turned back to the scene, trying to ignore their cameras and microphones.  
  
Jimmy looked through his viewfinder, trying to keep his mind focused as he snapped off photos of the crime scene and the surrounding area. It was useless; his thoughts kept drifting back to Linda and their conversation the night before. He so badly wanted to just go to her, talk to her, but he couldn't. He was angry and hurt . . . and his pride had taken over a little bit. Sighing, he turned the camera to get some shots of the crowd as he looked through the viewfinder and focused.  
  
The young photographer sucked in his breath sharply when he saw the man standing in the crowd. Dark hair, dark clothes, trench coat, eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses . . . everything about that man was dark. Jimmy had seen many people - both famous and infamous - in his career at the Daily Planet, but he couldn't remember anyone - anyone - ever commanding an air of presence such as the one the dark man seemed to possess. He habitually snapped off a few shots, then he looked up, but the man had vanished.  
  
Jimmy looked around, trying to find out where the man had gone to, but there was no sign of him anywhere. He was thrown off kilter for a few seconds, then he quickly shook himself from his stupor. He had a job to do, and he couldn't concentrate any longer on other things in his life. He sighed as he looked through the viewfinder, diving back into the crime scene to escape his personal reality.  
  
The man entered the small bedroom as quickly and quietly as he could. He was on a mission, and nothing was going to stop him from completing it. He wasted no time in visually scanning the room, looking for any clues. He quickly spotted one on the tiny nightstand, situated next to the Superman alarm clock and a small pile of film canisters. The man strode over to the nightstand and picked up the small picture frame . . . and stared at the photo of Linda as she stood next to the loft stairs in the barn. After a few moments he reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet-sized photo of Jimmy taken earlier that year.  
  
"Gotcha," he said softly, his voice tinted with a deadly edge. Satisfied, he turned and left the young photographer's room.  
  
He had work to do.  
  
To Be Continued . . . 


End file.
